


Realization in form of Love

by SherlockChlo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Animal Ears, Cosplay, F/M, Genderswap, Holding Hands, Ice Cream, Kissing, Sherlolly - Freeform, Shopping, hanging out with friends, on a date, watching a movie, wearing each other's clothes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 54,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockChlo/pseuds/SherlockChlo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is another 30 Day OTP Challenge, but for Sherlock and Molly. </p><p>Sherlock has never been good at relationships, so how do you think it'll go when it's with Molly? It all starts when Sherlock goes to Molly in 'need for comfort' after seeing John whilst he was away. What will this lead to? And how will their relationship change over time? </p><p>Chapter 24 has been added.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! 
> 
> So this is the first chapter of the '30 Day OTP Challenge'. As you can tell, my OTP is Sherlolly. Don't ask me why. I do love Johnlock, but Molly has always been first in my mind! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Holding Hands

Molly walked quickly into the Morgue, not paying particular attention to her surroundings. Now that Sherlock was 'dead' she had nobody coming to see her about crazy experiments. Even if they did, Molly wouldn't allow it. Her coffee was still hot and she was carrying several files and books in her hand. 

“Molly...” She let out a whimper, stopping in her tracks to stare at the man before her. He's back. 

“Hello, Sherlock. How are y-”

“Molly, I'm not okay.” Sherlock interrupted her, as per usual. “I'll spare you the thought of questioning for once.” Molly only stared. He looked different, to say the least. His dark and unruly curls had started to grow back, though not in their natural colour. For his latest trip he claimed that he had to dye his hair in order to 'go with the flow'. He immediately promised Molly that he would never say that again to her. 

“What's wrong? Please. You can tell me, Sherlock. I-I want to help.” Molly moved closer and placed her hand on Sherlock's shoulder, only for it to be shrugged off. Still no contact then? Molly thought to herself. Sherlock, however, gave the Pathologist no answer. His silence hurt her more than his words. Most of the time, any way. “Look, if you don't want to talk I'll just-”

“I saw John today, Molly.” Sherlock turned to face her, for the first time of Molly knowing, there were tears deep and threatening in his icy-cold eyes. “You...” He cleared his throat before continuing, “you never told me how he was. Never.”

“I didn't think you'd want to know that John's PTSD had returned, Sherlock. That he's found someone after all of this time that'll make him John again. Her name's Mary, by the way. She's a nurse here and she's a great person. All I can say to you is that John was much worse before he met Mary. And when I didn't tell you, I was only thinking about your well-being.” Molly had been practising defending herself against Sherlock in the time he'd been gone. For two months she waited to stand up for herself properly and now was the time to do so. 

“Well, what about John's, Molly?” Sherlock stood briskly from the stool on which he sat, the stool falling backwards with a crash, and balled his hands into fists. “Also, starting sentences with 'and' shows lack of intelligence, Molly. Do try and form your sentences properly!” He hissed at her deeply. 

“I'm sorry, Sherlock.”

“What good is being sorry, Molly?” Sherlock watched the woman as her head fell allowing Molly's breath, not knowing she'd been holding one, to leave. He waited for her to speak, but no words came. Only whimpers and the bobbing of her head. Crying. “Molly, I- not good?” Molly chuckled at how childish Sherlock sounded, not like himself at all. 

“No. Not good.” Molly wiped the tears that had fallen from her eyes and walked to pick up the stool. Before she could touch it, he hand collided with Sherlock's. It was warm and, frankly, inviting. She stopped those thoughts immediately knowing where they'd get her. “Sorry.” She watched as Sherlock replaced the stool to its original position and retook his place. “Do you want to, erm, talk about it?” Courage, Molly. Courage. 

“Yes.” Came the simple answer. Molly was taken back by his answer, but respected the state he was in. 

“What happened?” 

“I've already told you what happened, Molly. Why can't people just listen?” Sherlock snapped back. 

“Sorry-”

“All I wanted to do was see him. Make sure that he was still alive and that what I am doing is actually working. Mycroft hasn't been updating me on any of you. Typical of Mycroft, of course.” Molly let out a small chuckle in agreement. “I knew about you, seeing you every now and again, but everyone else was as good as dead in my knowledge. I didn't expect- anticipate what I saw from John though. His limp. His cane... What have I done?” Sherlock slammed his fists onto the table; causing Molly to jump from her seat slightly. “I helped to save him, just like he said at my 'grave', and now I've destroyed him once more. I wish he'd never met me. I wish I could go back and refuse to share a flat with him!” 

“Sherlock, why would you say that?” Molly asked wearily, knowing she'd probably get all of Sherlock's tantrums in one. 

“Sentiment. All of this sentiment is poisoning me, Molly. I may as well have taken that bloody pill.” Sherlock had started to pace. Why was he like this all of a sudden? “John would have been better off without me ruining his life!” He moved his hands to his hair before starting to grip it tightly and yanking in every direction he could manage. Trying to pull his hair out!

“Sherlock! Sherlock, stop it!” Molly grabbed hold of Sherlock's arms and pulled them away from his head. “Stop hurting yourself!” She shouted to him, his eyes darting across her face. 

“Are you angry with me?” Sherlock asked, once again sounding like a small child. It was clear to Molly that his emotions were all tumbling and turning throughout his mind. Feelings and emotions that he had obviously rarely felt before seeing as he couldn't control them at all. 

“No, Sherlock, I'm not angry at you. I'm worried for your safety. But you pulling your hair out isn't going to do anything to help you or John! Please, listen to me for once.” Molly walked forward to the former detective and took his hands in hers. Initially Sherlock pulled away, but Molly only held tighter. “You are going to come home with me and we are going to talk. Yes, Sherlock. Talk.” Watching how Sherlock reacted to the word 'talking', as though it were poison to his mind whenever someone mentioned it to him. 

“Molly-” Sherlock started to whine. God. You're such a child! Molly thought to herself.

“Please, let's sort this out so you're fighting fit for your next call-out.” She didn't know why she said that specifically, but it seemed like a good line at the time. “Forget I said that. Come here.” Molly helped Sherlock to his feet. Pulled the hood of the jacket he was wearing over his hair and took him by the hand once more. “You'll need to blend in with me, so we'll need to hold hands.” She watched Sherlock roll his eyes. “What now, Sherlock?” 

“I'll let you take me home and talk to me, but do I have to let you hold my hand?” Sherlock moaned once more causing Molly to turn and face him before leaving the door, dragging him along with her. 

“Can you do your best American accent for me? Or you could be a deep, dangerous voiced character... You could really use the phrase 'tall, dark and handsome' to your advantage.” Molly looked at Sherlock's hair, now auburn, and realised how her statement didn't work. “You know, that's what I thought of you the first time we met.” 

“You thought that I was tall, dark and... handsome?” Sherlock's eyebrows raised as he watched Molly's cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. Well done, Sherlock.

“Yes. I also thought that you were bossy, arrogant, harsh, annoying, twisted-”

“Alright. I think we've had enough of that now, Molly.”

“What about if you sounded like Khan from Star Trek. You could scare everyone away so that nobody will talk to us.” Molly suggested so that Sherlock could hear, before adding in a whisper, “Not that you don't do that any way...”

“Hello, Molly. Good to see you.” Mike appeared from around the corner and noticed that she was holding another man's hand. “Hey there, mate. Mike Stamford.” He held out his hand to Sherlock. 

“Shit.” Molly swore under her breath hoping that Mike wouldn't recognise him. She was definitely surprised when Sherlock started to speak again. 

“Dan. Dan Berry. I'm, er, Molly's boyfriend.” Sherlock had managed to change his voice so quickly, Molly had to stare up at him with shock. “I just moved here from America and met Molly a few weeks ago. She's great isn't she?” He placed his arm on her shoulder and pulled her towards him. “She was just showing me the Morgue.”

“Thinking about joining us, are we?” Mike asked Dan... Sherlock.

“Yes.”  
“No.” Sherlock and Molly spoke at the same time. 

“Dan wants to learn Forensic Pathology, but not here specifically, Mike.” Molly defended her cause well, taking both of their answers into account. “Any way, Dan and I better be going.”

“Date night.” Sherlock added, still maintaining his American accent. Molly placed it now as Californian. Her favourite, by far. 

“Oh, alright. Nice seeing you again, Molly. And you... Dan.” Mike left them alone once again, allowing Sherlock to take Molly's hand once more. 

“Home?”

“Fine.” Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes and allowing himself to hold on. He couldn't deny that he didn't... Enjoy it. Molly's hands were small and dainty managing to fit perfectly with his. They were cold though, not very inviting, if he did have something to complain about. Wait. What was he thinking. Ignore everything about her. He continued to walk with Molly, ignoring her hand, but blending in with her. 

Nothing would happen between them, he hopes, but Sherlock couldn't deny that when he told her on the day of his death that she counted, that he was lying to her. Sherlock Holmes did have feelings for Molly Hooper. Not that she would ever know, of course.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has returned once more, and for the last time. He finds Molly asleep but that doesn't stop him from telling her how he feels about everything. His life. John. Coming back from the dead. Her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. This is chapter two, Cuddling Somewhere. 
> 
> I wanted it to be somewhere familiar to both Molly and Sherlock so that they didn't have to physically go anywhere just to cuddle, you know. That doesn't seem like something Sherlock would do.

_ **Cuddling Somewhere** _

 

Molly hadn't seen Sherlock since that night because he had to hunt down one of the last men in Moriarty's web. They'd talked a lot that night before he once again left to continue with his other life, and Molly only hoped that it would be one of the last times that she would have to wave goodbye to him. He returned so rarely nowadays that she feared him never returning and carrying on with a brand new life somewhere else. All alone. Without _her_. Molly didn't think like this very often though, knowing that Sherlock would rarely, if _ever_ , think about her. 

 

It was always one of Molly's favourite things to do, watching Doctor Who, but this _particular_ episode wasn't doing her emotions or thoughts about Sherlock any favours. River was the character that Molly related to the most, apart from the fact that River and the Doctor met back to front of course. She was currently marrying the Doctor; something Molly had secretly wanted to do since David Tennant had played the Doctor. This was the seventh time she'd watched the episode since Sherlock had let her hold his hand. Bearing in mind that Sherlock had only been gone a month, someone who wasn't obsessed with a certain ex-detective would have thought it completely bonkers. But for Molly, it was a way to cope with not being able to see the man that she, dare say, _loves_...

 

' _I can't let you die, without knowing that you are loved. By so many and so much and by no one more than me..._ ' This was the line that always caused Molly to wish that she'd met her special someone. She had but, well, he didn't know. Or _care_ for that matter. No matter who she was with, family or friends, she always felt alone _unless_ Sherlock was there by her side. Strange really, she'd never felt like that with anyone. 

 

Once the episode had finished, Molly tidied herself up for the night and went to bed. Nothing could disturb her once she was asleep, which was always good, but tonight would be different. A whisper pulled her from her slumber, simply the word ' _Molly_ '.

 

“Sh'lock?” Molly slurred, sleep still controlling her. 

 

“I'm back, Molly. Back from my work.” Sherlock noticed, sitting next to her on the bed, how Molly was trying to keep her eyes open purely to see _him_. So he asked her, “Would you like me to let you sleep?” Her answer was pulling him closer to her and wrapping her arms around his waist. 

 

“No, Sh'lock. Please stay here.” 

 

“But Molly, you're clearly not in the right state of mind to have, at best, an actual stimulating conversation. How do I know that you won't just fall asleep again?” 

 

“I'll have you know that I was the best- girl in my year for not sleeping.” Molly chuckled to herself remembering the old times that she used to be so happy during. Subconsciously, Sherlock placed his arm around Molly in order to pull her closer to his body. Molly hummed in agreement before whispering to him, “Is that it now? Are you back for good?” 

 

“Every time I return to see you, I am always asked the same question. I would normally, and regretfully, give you the answer of 'no' because that's how Moriarty's web works. There are always new pieces to discover. Pieces that he may have tangled so tightly that they were hidden directly in my sight. Some were so difficult to destroy that I returned here to London in a worse state than I let on to you, Molly. But now my answer has changed. I now regret to tell you that I am returning home.” Molly looked up into Sherlock's eyes, well what she could see of them. He stared blankly towards the wall of the room, his arm clutching to Molly's shoulder. _Comfort_. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean,” Sherlock looked down at her finally. “I've finished destroying Moriarty's web, _but_ I don't want to return from the dead. I don't think that it'd be fair on you, or John...” Sherlock sniffed releasing Molly's shoulder from his grasp. “Sorry, about _that_.” Sherlock nodded towards his hand which was still placed there, just not gripping. 

 

“Sherlock, we need you back here, you know. As much as you don't care to admit to yourself, we all love you and you love all of us... In your weird and twisted way.” Sherlock sighed before Molly could feel his hand shaking on her shoulder. “What's wrong?” She could see his eyes staring straight ahead once more, watching the dust falling probably. But this _wasn't_ normal for Sherlock to do. Even when both of them were talking to each other, something they'd managed to do the past few times Sherlock had stayed over. “Sherlock!” Somehow, unknown to her, she knew exactly how to deal with _this_ because of how many times she'd have to comfort John. So she did know after all... 

 

Racing to the kitchen, Molly flicked the switch on her kettle and made sure that Sherlock's mug contained one spoonful of coffee and two of sugar. ' _Black, two sugars. I'll be upstairs_ '. Molly always remembered that line from their relationship's past. She'd asked him out and he completely, and naively, rejected her without even mentioning it. When the kettle boiled, she poured the water into the mug and took it into Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock looked at the mug and then raised his hand to eye level. “My hands are shaking too badly to hold the mug, Molly,” he told her. 

 

“Try.” Molly practically whispered. 

 

Sherlock sighed heavily before, slowly, taking the mug into his hand. His hands continued to shake rather violently, worse than John's had ever been, but he managed to hold it well enough to take a quick sip from it. Molly took the mug back and sat herself back down on the bed next to Sherlock. Before she could say anything, Sherlock had replaced his arm to her shoulder and was pulling her closer to his chest once more. She liked the feeling, but she didn't know whether Sherlock was only doing this for _her_ purposes. 

 

“Sherlock-”

 

“I lied you know. I was just experimenting.” Molly looked up to him once more.

 

“Lied to me about what, exactly?”

 

“That I don't want to return. I do. I really do. I just don't know what I'm going to do when I have to tell John about everything.” Sherlock sighed deeply once more. “Can I have some more coffee-please?” Molly handed the man his coffee once more, making sure that he didn't spill it before he drained the mug all in one. When the mug was removed from in front of his face, Molly could see that Sherlock had his eyes closed tightly. 

 

“Sherlock, what are we doing?” She asked noticing that her arms were still tightly around his frame, and his arms were still around her shoulders. 

 

“I-I don't know.” Sherlock managed to splutter back before removing his arm. _She realised_ he thought to himself. “I believe it's called cuddling.”   


“Was that an experiment then?” Molly asked nervously, pulling her knees into her chest so that she was now only a ball. Sherlock watched her every move carefully. 

 

“No. It was not an experiment, Molly.” The Pathologist's gaze fixed on Sherlock once more as she studied every one of his features. “Do you remember the night that we were in the Morgue and we held hands? Of course you do. _Stupid question_. I hardly said a word to you that night. From experience with your _emotions_ I know that you would have thought that I was giving you the 'silent treatment' as they call it nowadays. Molly, I hope that I didn't make you feel that way. I simply realised something that night, which took a lot of time in my Mind Palace, every now and again whilst listening to you, in order to really understand what and why my body and mind were doing to me.” 

 

“What are you trying to say?” Molly asked unfolding herself and crossing her legs out in front of her on the bed. If anyone walked in now they would have thought that this was a married couple talking before going to bed. But this wasn't a married couple?!

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, knowing that he would have to explain it to her. “Molly, I'm trying to tell you that I- I might have developed some kind of- _feelings_ for you.” He let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding and let his head fall into his hands. “I just don't understand _anything_ any more. I've never been in this situation before, but I've thought about it a lot. Attempted to delete the conclusion in fact. That attempt obviously failed and was thrown into the bin.” Molly chuckled, however still not understanding what he was trying to say to her, fully. 

 

“So, what you're saying is, is that you love me-”

 

“Yes, that is indeed what I am saying Molly. I think I should let you know that this is all completely abnormal to me, so if I make a mistake just let me know so that I can set it right because I don't want to hurt you, even though I have in the past, and I'm sorry for that by the way, I've just never been able to control what I'm saying-”

 

“Sherlock, shh. You're rambling.” Molly soothed which gave Sherlock time to catch his breath. “I forgive you. I have from the moment you apologised that Christmas.” She laughed slightly. “Was that stupid of me, Sherlock? Forgiving you, I mean.” 

 

“If you believe that to be right, Molly, then I think you should just do what you believe to be-”

 

“You're not very good at this are you?” Sherlock shook his head. “Can we cuddle again? You're really warm and I _really_ want to sleep- Oh god! No. I didn't mean!” 

 

“Molly, it's fine. Come here.” Sherlock held his arms open for Molly to rest her head on him. “Where would you like to go?” 

 

“Can I, if it's alright, lay with my head in your lap? My dad always used to let me and when I'd woken up in the night and it was the perfect position for me to be protected from my nightmares.” Sherlock didn't say anything or make any sound, which was _surprising_ to say the least. “Is that okay? I don't have to.” 

 

“No, it's fine.” Sherlock twisted Molly and pulled her shoulders down so that her head was in his lap. “Is there anything else he used to do?” 

 

Molly laughed, “He used to sing which, no offence, but I don't think you'd be very good at.” Sherlock snorted; of course he could sing. He just didn't enjoy to. “He also used to hold my hand and stroke my hair, not that you have to do that-” Sherlock placed one hand onto Molly's hair and took her hand in his other. 

 

“Is that better, Molly?” 

 

“Thank you.” She whispered back to him before closing her eyes.

 

“Molly, I-” She hummed in response. “Erm... Nothing. Goodnight, Miss Hooper.” Sherlock placed a soft kiss to the top of Molly's hair. 

 

“Goodnight, Sherlock Holmes.” 

 

Molly fell asleep rather quickly. Sherlock on the other hand didn't sleep the entire night. He only sat there comforting Molly through her sleep. Thought kept racing through his mind and stirring new opinions to flourish. 

 

Sherlock Holmes had admitted to Molly that he wanted her, in his own special way of course. He knew that she knew he wanted to take it slowly. She would as well, strangely. He didn't want to hurt her like he had done for several years during her life, but now was the time in which he realised. He _did_ love Molly Hooper. She was the one to help him survive. Put up with tantrums and when he would return to her drunk, which had happened three and a half times (Once was with Molly herself, regretfully.). What he wanted to do now, he didn't know. What he did know is that he wanted Molly to be a part of whatever _it_ would become. As Molly stirred, Sherlock pushed the thoughts aside and pretended to be asleep. Molly was far too clever for him though. She always had been. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> See you next time for: Watching a movie


	3. Watching a movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Sherlock go and see Frankenstein at the cinema together. This not only is a step into realization, but one step closer into the inevitable relationship that they will share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. 
> 
> Sorry, it's a bit late. It took me forever to write this. 
> 
> I'll post the next one later as well. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

_ **Watching a movie** _

 

_**Incoming Call.** _

 

“Hey, Sherlock.”

 

“ _Molly.”_

 

“I was wondering, now that you've moved back into Baker Street, whether you'd like to go and see a movie with me?” Sherlock could hear Molly sigh into the phone.

 

“ _You want_ me _to go to the cinema with you? I don't think I've ever heard something more_ tedious _than that, Molly.”_

 

“Okay, okay. I was only asking.” 

 

“ _Do you know how_ boring _cinemas are, Molly? First you have to stand in a line waiting for all of the unintelligible people in front of you to hurry up and eventually pay for their tickets, which they probably can't afford any way. And then you have to sit, in the dark might I add, and wait for a film, that is mediocre at best, to start for twenty minutes. That is not my idea of fun!”_

 

“Sherlock. It's fine. You don't have to come with me, I just thought you'd be interested. Maybe it could help cheer you up a little. Obviously _not_.” 

 

“ _Y-you thought about me?”_

 

“Yes! I do _a lot_. You just don't understand that friends think about each other and do things togeth-”

 

“ _I'll go.”_

 

“Erm... _W-what_?!”

 

“ _I'll go with you to the cinema, Molly. What were you debating on seeing?”_

 

“I, well, erm. I was going to see 'The Fifth Estate', _but_ it's not at our nearest cinema... So either we go somewhere else-”

 

“ _Or.”_

 

“ _Or_ , we go and see Frankenstein...”  


“ _Frankenstein? Hmm... I do believe I enjoyed the book when I read it during my childhood. It was a mix of twisted and the normal human biology that most people possess.”_

 

I'd never thought of it that way.”

 

“ _Frankenstein, then?”_

 

“Definitely. Shall I see you there about, seven o'clock?”

 

“ _'It's a date', as they say.”_

 

“A d-date?” 

 

“ _Yes.”_

 

“Do you even know what one of those is? We're going on a friendship date right? Not a date _date_?” 

 

“ _A date_ date _? I am simply going in order to show you that I do in fact care about our friendship,much to counter belief of those around us and to you,_ apparently _.”_

 

“Fine, Sherlock. I-I'll see you there then. Bye.”

 

“ _Goodbye, Miss Hooper.”_

 

_**Call Ended** _

 

Molly let out a deep breath. Sherlock really was one of the _strangest_ people she knew. He could completely surprise her at the best of times or destroy every ounce of respect she had for him at others. She contemplated how he reacted to her thoughts. ' _Y-you care about me?'_ How could he not know that she did? Did he lie about everything he said that night about how he felt about her? _Typical Sherlock_. Eventually, it was half past six so Molly left for the cinema. She didn't know _exactly_ how to feel about going to the cinema with Sherlock, but her initial thoughts involved worry and excitement. 

 

The air was brisk and cold, already, so Molly had wrapped up warm. Outside of the building she could see Sherlock standing in his famous bell staff coat and scarf. He looked pale, paler than usual if that were even possible. His hair was back to its usual dark self which made Molly smile. She didn't know why at first, but then she realised that her favourite hair on Sherlock was his natural hair. He just didn't suit any other hair style, in her opinion any way. When he spotted Molly walking towards him, she swore she could have seen him smiling at her, he held out his hand for her. 

 

“Hello, Miss Hooper.” 

 

“Sherlock. Why do you keep calling me Miss Hooper?” Molly asked him as they walked towards the desk. It was surprisingly _empty_ for a Halloween night... Oh, _that's_ what Molly had forgotten. 

 

“I think it suits you, in some ways.” Sherlock _actually_ paid for the tickets, held the door open for Molly into the screen and allowed her to choose the seat that was to her taste. 

 

“I do hope that things haven't been too _tedious_ for you, Sherlock.” Molly said to the man as the film started. He looked down to her face, studying every one of her features just like _she_ had done the night they cuddled. 

 

“No. I decided that it wouldn't be tedious if you were here with me.” Sherlock's arm found itself around Molly's shoulder as he pulled her closer to his body. He had enjoyed cuddling with Molly that night and planned to continue. At first, Molly went stiff, but she slowly started to relax into his touch. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

Once the film had ended, both Molly and Sherlock walked out of the cinema in full conversation about the film... _Together._

 

“I really do love Benedict Cumberbatch's acting. He's been a favourite of mine for some years now and a theatre production like that one _really_ shows his talent.” Sherlock watched her intently, _crush Molly?_ , as they stepped into the dark and the cold. 

 

“Is this _Benedict Cumberbatch_ in that other movie that you wanted to see, Molly?” 

 

“Yes. It's a film about Wikileaks. I don't know whether you would have read that website, but it was rather interesting! Everyone sees him as a traitor. Not me though.” 

 

Sherlock stopped Molly before she could speak any more. “Molly.” 

 

“Yes, Sherlock. Sorry.” Sherlock placed his hand on Molly's cheek carefully and pulled her head towards his, until. Lips connected. It was only a soft kiss but Molly didn't want to push anything. Eventually, they both pulled away from each other, looking into each other's eyes. Molly could see her World twisting in Sherlock's and she hoped he could see the same in hers. 

 

“Would you like me to walk you home?” Sherlock asked wearily, not realising what he'd just done. Molly nodded and placed her hand in Sherlock's. They started to walk, hand in hand, together down the street. Most of the time they talked about anything that came to Molly's mind with Sherlock, _surprisingly_ , listening and adding any thoughts that he knew Molly would want him to. He didn't want to hurt her feelings after all. 

 

When they were not that far away from Molly's flat, Sherlock brought up a sensitive topic to himself. The topic of him _never_ having a relationship. The topic which he had been dreading since he realised that Molly's feelings for him were mutual for her. The topic that Sherlock, although he would _never_ admit it, was very embarrassed about. 

 

“Molly. I think that now is an excellent time to discuss our... _Relationship_.”

 

“W-what do you mean?” Molly stuttered making sure that she looked away from the man. 

 

“You know what I mean, Molly. It is clear to us that you have changed my mind in some ways, otherwise I would not be _here_ with you tonight, would I?” Molly shook her head in response. She was starting to worry because _this_ was not like Sherlock at all. “We are no longer friends. It is to my belief, or so the signs have shown, that we are now in a relationship. I do not wish to be known as your boyfriend.”

 

“W-what?! We're in a... _Relationship_?” Molly looked around and then looked at the hand that held hers tightly. “What do you want to be called, then? And why not _boyfriend_?” 

 

“I find it to be extremely normal and _boring_. You know that if things do not stimulate my mind then they're not worth doing.” Sherlock looked over to Molly and stopped walking. “I would like to be partners. I feel that it is a suitable title. Is that okay with you, Miss Hooper?” 

 

“Yes, of course.” 

 

“Good. Now, if you'd let me, I'd like to kiss you once more.” Molly knew that Sherlock would be a gentleman when it came to certain things and not to others. However, she didn't expect him to ask her that question... _Ever_. 

 

“You may.” Both sides leaned in and allowed their lips to collide. Once again it was only a soft kiss, but it lasted for, what felt like, years. Eventually they both pulled apart and turned to walk back down the street. “You know. I always knew that you wouldn't want to be my boyfriend.” Molly spoke as though she had no hope for herself or their relationship together. 

 

“But we're together now, are we not?” 

 

“Oh, we are, are we?” Molly asked playfully. Sherlock could be so naïve about some things it always made Molly laugh, and now was no exception. 

 

“ _Yes_. I thought that we had _just_ discussed it together.” 

 

“Oh, Sherlock. I do love you and your mind. But some areas of it can be ' _so placid, straight forward and barely used'._ ” Molly used her best impression of the baritone voice of the man beside her and then laughed when she caught him rolling his eyes. _Thank you, John!_

 

“I love you too, Molly Hooper.” 

 

“I've been waiting to hear those words for a long time, Mr Holmes.” Molly smiled and placed a chaste kiss on Sherlock's lips. She could see he wanted more, so did she for that matter, but for now they had to be civilised. Taking it one step at a time and all that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> I'll see you in the next chapter:
> 
> On a date. 
> 
> Let's see how that turns out, shall we?


	4. On a date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all know that Sherlock's dates will never truly go according to plan, and this date is no exception. What will happen when Molly orders for two and Sherlock ends up on the floor struggling to breath?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Here's the next chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

_ **On a date** _

 

“Sherlock, _where_ are we going?” 

 

“On a date, Molly. That's what couples do, isn't it?” 

 

“Yes. But, people's boy- partners,” Molly corrected herself before she said boyfriend to Sherlock, “don't usually go into their other half's work and lie about a case that they _apparently_ need to solve. And _then_ drag them away, _while_ they're still in their lab coat might I add, and force them to walk all the way through London... I don't know whether you think that is the _best_ way to take someone out on a date, but people usually ask before kidnapping people.” 

 

“Oh, Molly. You're overreacting now. I didn't _kidnap_ you, per say. I leave that kind of _trivia_ to my brother, Mycroft. Oh, he probably knows about us now by the way, so be prepared for him to kidnap _you_.” Sherlock smiled slightly before taking Molly's hand in his as they walked. “No. I chose a more _interesting_ method.”

 

“And what was that, _exactly_?” 

 

“Flirting.” 

 

“ _F_ - _Flirting_?!” Molly spat out. She couldn't help but laugh, loud in fact. Very loud. It even made Sherlock stop in the middle of the pavement once again and look at the ground. “Sorry. I don't mean to laugh at you, Sherlock. I just didn't think that, well, you'd be so. So.”

 

“ _Normal_? That's a first. You're not alone, you know. Nobody believes that I do actually have a heart, metaphorically of course because usually _everyone_ has a heart; _even_ sociopaths, that can love.” Molly looked straight into Sherlock's eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line. “As soon as I told John, I say that I told him, but...”

 

“What did he threaten to do if you didn't tell him?” 

 

“Tear up and throw away all of my nicotine patches, smash my _own_ violin over my head and smash my skull into pieces in front of me...” Sherlock started to pout, which made Molly see how adorable he could truly be. She placed her hand on his cheek and stroked his cheek bone carefully. She noticed how his eyelids fluttered slightly at the touch. “Any way. As soon as I was _threatened_ and _blackmailed_ into telling John why I was so happy, I received a big applause but of laughter...” He started to pout once more. 

 

“He _laughed_ at you?” Molly asked Sherlock in her _what the f**k_ tone. He had noticed Molly using it a lot recently. That's why he'd given it that particular name. 

 

“Yes. It seems that this _Mary_ of his, and _yes_ I do remember her name, has had a bad influence on him.” 

 

“I don't think it's that, Sherlock.” Molly admitted to the man, John had told her many a time how he felt about Sherlock treating her in such a way. He would _always_ mention it when they went for coffee. She would tell him about 'imaginary' things that Sherlock could have said to her when he was alive and they both laugher a long with each other. “I think that was just his natural reaction to _you_ telling him that you actually _love_ someone, you know, apart from yourself of course.” Molly expected to have insulted Sherlock, so she was pleasantly surprised when Sherlock laughed.

 

“Yes. I suppose it _is_ rather surprising. I was actually astounded myself, you know.” Molly smiled up at him before giving his hand a quick squeeze. “It's okay to surprise yourself, isn't it?” Molly nodded and looked up at him. 

 

“Sherlock Holmes, you really are a miracle. Do you know that?” 

 

“Nobody has ever told me that. Not even my parents.” Molly frowned at his answer. They'd spoken about his parents before, but never getting to the real stuff that he was clearly hiding from most people. She started to wonder if John knew. “John doesn't know, Molly. It would spark his doctor spirit and I'd never get rid of him. He'd always be by my side, checking my every move like a monitor. As if I'm some experiment that nobody is supposed to know about, even him.”

 

“You could have told me about it, Sherlock. I wouldn't have told John _anything_ if you didn't want it to be heard by another.” Sherlock pressed his lips firmly into a straight line before pointing to a restaurant on the corner of the street.

 

“Oh, look. Here we are.” Molly looked at the building closely noticing how everything looked spectacularly glamorous. The people. The food. The tables. When the got to the door, Sherlock held it open for Molly allowing her to enter first. 

 

“I have a reservation for tonight.” Sherlock told the man standing behind the podium. 

 

“Name?”

 

“Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock said blankly noticing how the man had to look twice at him before trying to hold back a smile. Molly too noticed and followed after the men to the table. 

 

Sherlock pulled out Molly's chair for her and pushed it in when she sat down. He was really going all out to impress her, wasn't he. When they were both seated, they were handed their menus and left to choose their food. 

 

“You know,” Molly broke the silence that had filled their table while both sides picked their meal, “I had wondered why you'd taken me back to my flat in order for me to get changed, in a dress that you'd already bought for me, so smartly.” She smiled at the man before her, noticing how his eyes lingered on her lips several times while she spoke. She may not be Sherlock Holmes, but she was definitely starting to pick up some of his traits. 

 

“I felt it only appropriate. You look very... _nice_ in that dress, by the way. I didn't know if it would fit you, but it seems it does.” Sherlock smiled at her sheepishly. 

 

“I look very nice? Well, than-”

 

“ _Beautiful_. I meant to say that you look _beautiful_ , Molly.” Molly looked up from her menu now to look straight into Sherlock's eyes. They were always gorgeous to Molly, but tonight there was an extra level beauty that Molly had never seen before in his eyes. “I'm just sorry that I've never told you that before tonight.” His head dropped to look back at the menu. 

 

“Thank you, Sherlock.” Was all Molly could manage to say back to her partner as she too turned back to picking her food. When Sherlock didn't order anything Molly decided to take charge. “Sherlock. You're are going to eat something. We'll have two of the oyster starters, two rump steaks and then two lemon soufflés, please.” Molly then handed both menus to the waiter and looked at Sherlock with a smug grin upon her face. “Is that okay with you?” 

 

“Fine. I knew you'd order for me, so I chose not to order anything for that specific reason.” 

 

“Wait. You didn't order purely so that I would order for the both of us?” 

 

“I've eaten with you plenty of times, after you've nagged me of course, so I knew that you'd know what I like so it was a logical move.” 

 

“Well. I suppose that's okay, then.” Molly thought about her next question before asking softly, “Sherlock, do you ever think about the end?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“I do. And sometimes I say to myself, 'You don't know what you're hiding from. How did life become such a sad song?'. It helps me to think about the present instead of the future.”

 

“Molly. Everything ends. But you shouldn't give up. Never _ever_ give up!” 

 

“Nothing is made to last. The sun goes up and falls so fast. The clock looks still, still the hours pass. And all that time is never coming back.”

 

“Molly. I don't know what you're trying to tell me, but I know that you're quoting a musical of Harry Potter.” Instantaneously both Molly and Sherlock started to laugh. 

 

“I'm sorry.” Molly sighed before her head shot up. “Wait. You've watched A Very Potter Senior Year? That isn't something I thought I would ever hear you say. It's quite spectacular really, hearing you say that to me.” 

 

“What made you bring up that question, any way, Molly?” Sherlock was obviously concerned for her. Of course he was. He loved her now and he wasn't afraid to admit that to her any more. 

 

“I was just thinking about a conversation I had with John when you were 'dead'. In fact, we talked about it several times over the years. I knew that he wanted to kill himself, but I happened to be the bridge between you both and _that_ kept both of us sane, believe it or not. John is still here and now with Mary, he's hoping to propose to her this week actually, and I'm here with you, happier than I've ever been if I'm honest.” Molly looked up at Sherlock to see his head was in his hands. “Sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Sherlock shook his head and looked up to her. 

 

“No. You didn't say anything wrong, Molly. Nobody is supposed to be happy with _me_. My parents said that to many times during my childhood. They made sure that I'd always know that to be true. And to this day I've never forgotten. So no, Molly. You've said nothing wrong and done nothing wrong.” Molly placed her hand on Sherlock's and watched as his turned to take her pulse. She knew that it would elevate purely because he was taking it, but also because she was truly affected by Sherlock's presence. 

 

“Did they ever, _hurt_ you? Physically?” Molly's eyes filled with tears, knowing that his answer could be either of the options. She was hoping that they didn't but, she could never know before he told her. 

 

“No. They died long before they could do _that_ to me.” Sherlock squeezed Molly's hand slightly. 

 

“Tell me. Please, Sherlock. Tell me. I want to know.” Molly placed her other hand on Sherlock's making sure that she provided _some_ comfort, but not too much in order to cause him to shy away from her.

 

“I-I don't know whether I can.” Sherlock took his hand out from Molly's and leant back in his chair. As soon as the waiter stepped forward to present them with their starters, he straightened himself up once more and started to act as though nothing had actually happened in that conversation. “Thank you.” He said to the man as their food was placed in front of them. 

 

As they both started to eat, Sherlock suddenly started to feel sick. He didn't want to mention it to Molly of course because he knew it would worry her more than necessary. She was always like that when he told her things that were wrong with him. During one of his stays, he'd caught a cold and Molly _insisted_ that he stay until the cold went. It didn't take much convincing, mind you. 

 

“Sherlock.” Molly saying his name brought Sherlock out his trance like state. “Sherlock, you've gone pale. _Really_ pale! Are you okay?” Sherlock nodded and shovelled a piece of lettuce into his mouth. Molly took an oyster in hand and swallowed it whole. 

 

“Why do you eat it like that?”   


“It's the only way you can really eat it. To swallow it whole.” Molly smiled at him before taking another and pouring it into her mouth. After he watched her eat a couple more of the oysters, Sherlock placed one to his lips and breathed a sigh of annoyance before swallowing it whole. When he started to cough, Molly decided that Sherlock either didn't like the oysters or he had really bad practice at swallowing things whole. She moved around the table to hit Sherlock on the back.

 

“Are you okay, Sherlock?” 

 

“I'm just having an allergic reaction to” * cough * “seafood...” * cough * * cough *

 

“Hello? Yes. Ambulance, please! It's my boyfriend, he's having an allergic reaction to seafood. Yes, please hurry.” Molly had rung the ambulance fairly quickly and then started to search Sherlock for anything that would help. “Where's your, you know?” 

 

“I-I don't have... It with me...” 

 

“ _Fantastic_.” 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Miss Hooper?” 

 

“Yes!” 

 

“Your boyfriend is fine now. We just had to give him an injection and now he's fine. He's asking for you and-”

 

“Is he complaining?” The doctor nodded at her and opened the door for Molly to enter and see Sherlock. He still looked rather pale, but at least now he was better. He smiled at Molly when he saw her, but quickly wiped it from his face and returned to complaining. 

 

“Molly. Would you please tell these _imbeciles_ that I am perfectly fine and am able to leave.” Sherlock folded his arms and pouted up at Molly so only she would see. He hoped that it would twist her arm, but Molly wouldn't budge. 

 

“Sherlock. You need to stay here over night so they can keep an eye on you, and _then_ you can go home.” Molly smiled before shaking the Doctor's hand and watching him leave. “Why do you _always_ have to cause so much trouble?” She laughed as she placed her hand on his cheek. 

 

“Because that is just the way I am, Molly.” Sherlock looked her up and down as she smiled and looked into his eyes. “I'm sorry for making this date completely ridiculous!” 

 

“Oh. Don't worry. I'm sure that we'll never have a date as eventful as this again.” Molly paused and stroked her thumb across Sherlock's cheek bone. He held her free hand in his and squeezed lightly. “Why didn't you tell me about your allergy you _idiot_!” Molly slapped Sherlock lightly on the arm. 

 

“I didn't think it to be necessary.” 

 

“ _Necessary_?” Molly practically shouted at the man. “I'm pretty sure you could have died from that! You never told me when we had it before together.” 

 

“We never had fish together, Molly. So I didn't feel that it was important. Also, I wasn't really paying attention to what you were ordering because I was studying you too deeply to even listen.” Sherlock admitted taking Molly's hand from his cheek and placing a soft kiss on her palm and then on her knuckles. Molly started to blush at how affectionate Sherlock was being. 

 

“Please, just tell me next time. Any other allergies I should know about?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Thank goodness. For all I knew, I could have tried to feed you the steak and you would have almost died eating that as well.” Molly joked. She was expecting him to tell her to not make jokes, but the comment didn't come. 

 

“I love you, Molly Hooper.”

 

“I love you too, Sherlock Holmes.” Molly placed a small kiss to Sherlock's curls, stroking them as she moved away and added, “We'll go on another date to the fair or something. At least I know that you'll be safe.” Sherlock rolled his eyes but smiled any way. This could be a great relationship, or so both of them were hoping. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope that Sherlock doesn't seem too OOC because I try not to make him that way. It's a bit difficult to imagine him being himself but romantic at the same time. 
> 
> See you in the next chapter:
> 
> Kissing.


	5. Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly have hit a problem in their relationship. They both know that they are drifting apart although they're spending so much time together. 
> 
> One day, Sherlock decides to take matters into his own hands. What will happen and how will Molly react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there. :)
> 
> Here's the next chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. If it sounds really similar it's because I had major writer's block for this chapter so I used a chapter from someone else's OTP Challenge as inspiration... I say inspiration. I'm pretty sure that it's copy right! Sorry! :/

_ **Kissing** _

 

Sherlock had managed to recover quite well from his allergic reaction on his and Molly's first proper date. He had hoped that it would have gone _a lot_ better, but he didn't think that Molly minded. When he had to stay in hospital overnight, he'd told Molly to go home, however she refused; staying by his bed side all night. Sherlock himself had stroked her hair all night, subconsciously of course, while he rearranged Molly's room in his Mind Palace. He only came out when he heard his name being spoken softly by the one person it could have been.

 

When his eyes opened he could see Molly's eyes staring directly at him. Sherlock didn't realise it but he was smiling at her with the most affection Molly had ever seen him give to anyone.

 

Since then, they had started to go out every week, much to Sherlock's moaning, or stay in and watch movies together. Although, he would never tell anyone what he thought, Sherlock had started to enjoy spending more and more time with his girlfriend. They'd even moved from the 'partner' name to boyfriend and girlfriend. On the other hand of their relationship, they'd stopped showing as much affection to each other. They hugged, cuddled and held hands, but in terms of kissing; they hadn't even kissed each others cheeks. Both sides knew that this was a _serious_ problem. Sherlock thinking about it the most and, in truth to himself, _worrying_ the most. He didn't mean to think about it so much; it was the thought of losing Molly now he'd found her that caused all of his thoughts.

 

On this particular day, Molly was completely and utterly _restless_. Which was _very_ strange for her. She was usually very calm and collected with her mind while Sherlock bounced off the walls like an overgrown toddler high on sugar. Either that or he'd bound up to Molly while she worked about _some_ experiment that went totally wrong, that's why he had green mould stuck throughout his curls. Or so he told her, any way.

 

Today Sherlock had _invited_ himself into Molly's flat and was currently sprawled out and reading a book. When she asked which particular book Sherlock had decided to read, she received no verbal answer. Sherlock was too engrossed in the book then. Molly had already tidied her _whole_ flat, rearranged her kitchen and she was now staring at the washing that was twisting around inside the washing machine.

 

“Molly, what are you doing?” Sherlock was standing in the doorway watching Molly as she sat in complete silence to herself. “Is _this_ what boredom does to you?”

 

“Sherlock, you have your book to keep you pre-occupied,” Molly looked up to see that Sherlock no longer had his book in his hand. “I've done _everything_ and now being _this_ restless has driven me to staring at the washing.” Sherlock chuckled at her. “Is there a problem with that?” She asked.

 

“No. I came in here to ask you whether you would like to help me with an experiment?” Molly could sense the nervousness in Sherlock's voice but she nodded and stood from the washing machine.

 

“Yeah, sure. Where is it?” Molly looked around before realising where she was. “Wait. Is your experiment in _my_ house?” She asked with a slight tone of anger in her voice.

 

“You'll see.” Sherlock left the room and waited for Molly to follow. As Molly turned into the living room she felt herself being pressed against the wall rather violently. Before she had time to register anything, there were another pair of lips against hers. They were warm and inviting, but they refused to open for her. Molly could tell that Sherlock was still nervous because he didn't move. He put as much passion into his kissing as he did with his experiments and his work.

 

When he finally backed away, Molly could see his pupils were dilated with lust. But his hands were shaking on her cheek and she could sense something as being wrong. “Sherlock-”

 

“I've been wanting to kiss you ever since our first date.”

 

“We've kissed before, haven't we?”

 

“Not for the past few months. The last time we kissed was in the hospital, and that was only me kissing you on the knuckle and on the palm. Do you know how long ago that was, Molly?” Sherlock stepped away from her and ruffled his hair with his hands.

 

“No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me. You usually count strange circumstances like this, so.” Molly crossed her arms and went to sit down on the sofa.

 

“Three months, six days, seventeen hours and thirteen minutes.” Sherlock sighed. “I've been waiting, you know. I didn't think you'd want to kiss me willingly so I told you that I wanted you to help me with an experiment.”

 

“You could have just said something, Sherlock. You didn't have to say it was an... Wait. Was it just an experiment?” Sherlock shook his head. “Well, why didn't you say anything?”

 

“I know that you have been thinking about our lack of affection, kissing particularly, lately as well, Molly.” Sherlock could see Molly blush deeply as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “But, to answer your question... I was too nervous.” Molly looked up at the man, her brows creased.

 

“I don't believe that for a second.”

 

“I thought that you might be trying to tell me that, _actually,_ you don't want to do _this_ any more.” Sherlock gestured between them and then let his head fall onto his chest.

 

“You thought that I wasn't happy? I thought that _you_ were trying to tell me we were going too fast for you. I know that you've never... Been in a situation like _this_.” Molly stood from the sofa and walked towards Sherlock, lifting his chin with her hand.

 

“Was it, not good?” Sherlock asked her looking down with his still dilated pupils. Molly knew that Sherlock only asked in such a way when he wasn't sure about the situation on any level. And this particular question didn't surprise her entirely.

 

“Sherlock. It was good. _Very_ good in fact.” Molly smiled up and bit her lip watching as Sherlock studied her face. Now that she knew he was comfortable with kissing her, Molly couldn't resist it any longer. She pulled Sherlock down by his lapels and places their lips together. Sherlock's hands were placed on her shoulders, but Molly realised that he had actually been going for her throat before he came back to reality and remembered what was happening.  _Thank goodness_ Molly thought to herself, hoping that Sherlock wouldn't actually want to hurt her in that way. She had come to trust him greatly, but she knew that he could still forget about what was happenign around him and hurt someone. 

 

When they broke away they were both out of breath. Both sets of eyes were dilated and both sets of breathing filled the room. During the kiss Molly was surprised about how the height difference didn't particularly affect how they kissed.

 

“Sherlock, a-are you okay?” Molly asked because she could see the look in Sherlock's eyes. “I'm sorry, if you don't want to-”

 

“That was... _Interesting_.” Sherlock smiled before making his way back to the sofa and picking up his book. “Molly, if-if you wouldn't mind, I would like-”

 

“Would it be good if we did this again some time?” Molly asked the man as she smiled up at him. Sherlock picked up his coat and pulled it around his body. He then started on his scarf, his eyes hadn't left Molly's figure once during the time.

 

“That'd be nice.” Sherlock said with a sly smile on his lips. He moved closer to Molly once more and kissed her. When his lips left hers, he quickly made his way out of her flat and back to his own to catalogue everything. And he meant _everything_. “Goodbye, Miss Hooper. I love you.” Sherlock smiled sweetly at her, if that was even possible for him and left, closing the door behind him.

 

“Goodbye, Sherlock. I love you too.” Molly whispered into the door breathing a sigh of arousal and relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :)
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Wearing each others' clothes


	6. Wearing Each Others' Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's heating is broken and she's had a pretty crappy day at work. She wants nothing more than to be warm and actually relax. What Molly doesn't expect to see when she gets home though, is Sherlock on her sofa wearing, some awfully familiar clothing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everybody. 
> 
> It's good to see you once again. 
> 
> Here's the next chapter for this 30 day thing. To be honest I'm trying to get them all typed out so that I don't waste what's in my mind. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

_ **Wearing Each Others' Clothes** _

 

Molly had had a rather long and boring day that consisted of _one_ autopsy and _six_ hours of paperwork. She always dreaded these days, but was happy when she returned home to the warm of her home to watch Doctor Who with hot chocolate and a warm meal. That was a _normal_ day though. Today was different. Molly's heating had broken last week, so her flat had been cold since. She also happened to have a visitor on this day. A visitor that she hadn't expected, especially since they were wearing her clothes!

 

“Sherlock! _What_ are you doing?” Molly practically screamed at the detective when she saw his frame sprawled across her sofa. That was relatively normal for Sherlock, especially in winter when he had no cases on- It wasn't currently winter-. But today Sherlock had _decided_ to go into _her_ room and take _her_ clothes. 

 

“Keeping warm. _Obviously_. Your flat is freezing, Molly. You should really get the heating seen to!” Sherlock told her with a sly smirk on his lips. He watched as Molly walked over to him and folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, do stop sulking. It's only your jumper, fluffy socks, scarf and hat, Molly.” Sherlock received a roll of the eyes from his girlfriend. 

 

“And, do pray tell, what _I'm_ supposed to wear, considering you _stole_ all of my winter clothes!” Molly's hands moved to her hips as she looked down at the man before her. Sherlock jolted up causing Molly to flinch slightly. She hadn't managed to contain her surprise when Sherlock suddenly moved, yet, which was a problem because Sherlock did that... _A lot._

 

“I wouldn't normally let _anyone_ but myself wear them, but I'm sure that I can make an exception for you, Miss Hooper.” Sherlock walked towards his coat and scarf and placed them down on the sofa. Walking towards Molly, he placed his scarf around her neck tightly, making sure he _didn't_ strangle her this time- yes, that happened... _Twice-_ but enough to keep her warm. Next he picked up his gloves and helped her put them onto her petite hands, they were _way_ too big for her, but she didn't mind. They gave her immediate warmth against the cold of her flat. Next Sherlock lifted his coat and gestured for Molly to put it on. She did exactly that and stood still as Sherlock helped her with the buttons. “We can cuddle to make sure we're warm as well, if you want? It's only logical to share body heat.” 

 

“Thank you, Sherlock.” Molly said before placing her lips against his. After settling down on the sofa, Sherlock placed a kiss to the corner of Molly's mouth, then to her jaw and then her neck. Molly's arms were around his neck pulling him closer to her. “D-does this count as sharing body heat?” Molly stuttered causing Sherlock to move his lips away from her neck. “Sorry.” Sherlock placed one more kiss to Molly's lips before he sat himself up straight. He pulled Molly's body towards his and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. 

 

“Is this better for you?” Sherlock asked the Pathologist placing a soft kiss onto her head and stroking her hair slightly. People always referred to Sherlock as a cat, but he was pleasantly surprised when Molly practically started to purr under his touch. She could always surprise him with the things that she did. Whether it be her cooking, which was actually _fantastic_ , or her taste in films he would usually be thrown by the things Molly did. 

 

“Yes. This is fine. Thank you, Sherlock. Although, I do have to say, I prefer the other way _much_ more than this. But both are good!” She managed to receive a chuckle for her efforts in trying to retain herself. Molly smiled up at him before returning to her previous position in order for Sherlock to continue stroking her hair. “What should we do now? It's rather boring just sitting here, isn't it.” She didn't realise until Sherlock didn't answer that those probably weren't the _best_ words. “Not that I find cuddling with you boring, or anything-”

 

“Don't worry, Molly. I know what you meant.” Sherlock tried to assure her, but Molly didn't really believe him. She could always tell when Sherlock was hurt, even if _he_ didn't want to admit it to anyone. Molly could see it in his eyes, those gorgeous eyes that Molly couldn't resist to stare into when she had the opportunity. “Do you want to cook something together or order take-away?” Sherlock asked the woman as she snuggled deeper into his neck and chest. 

 

“I'd like a take-away, if it's not too much trouble.” Molly moved from her place on the sofa and into the kitchen to look at the menus. When Sherlock realised that it should have only taken her twenty seconds at the most to go and get the menus, and she was currently at forty five, he went to go and find her. When he looked through the door he found something that he hadn't expected and _definitely_ didn't want to see. Molly was sitting at the table in her kitchen, her fingers pressed to her temples and her nose sniffling. At first he didn't know _exactly_ what to do with the situation, his decision led him to move before he even realised. He sat down in the chair next to Molly and placed his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. She threw her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer than before. Sherlock initially froze under the tighter grip but allowed Molly to continue. 

 

“Molly, what's wrong?” Sherlock asked cautiously. She hadn't seemed _this_ upset when she had been cuddling with him a minute previously. Was it something he had said? Something he had done? He wasn't sure, his lack of experience with human interaction really did annoy him at times like this. 

 

“I've just got a headache, Sherlock. Nothing to worry about!” Molly insisted. Her behaviour, however, told Sherlock that she was lying to him. _Why lie, Molly?_ Sherlock thought to himself as he pulled her closer, if that were even possible. “Please. Don't do that.” Molly whispered as she broke away and walked to one of the cupboards. Inside were all of her medicines. She took out a packet of ibuprofen and took two, using a cup of water made from her hand and the tap. 

 

“Do it. Do what?” Sherlock asked, bemused. Did Molly just read Sherlock's mind or something. He watched her as she rested herself against the sink after taking the pills. He stood from where he sat and moved behind her placing his arms around her waist. “What's wrong, Molly? You were fine a minute and thirty seconds ago.” Molly turned in his arms and placed her arms around Sherlock's neck. 

 

“Sherlock. I'm a _pretty_ good actor when I want to be.” Molly smiled at him before placing a soft kiss to his lips. “I'm joking, by the way.” She murmured against his lips before kissing him again. “I've just been getting migraines recently, and this one is _really_ killing me.” Molly looked up to find Sherlock checking over her features quickly. “Figure of speech, moron.” She clarified before placing her lips to Sherlock's once more. Breaking free from his grip, she walked over to a draw and pulled out a couple of menus. “Now. What do you fancy?” 

 

“You.” Sherlock smirked slyly down at her as he received one of Molly's glares. “Chinese would be great, if you have any menus for that.” Molly nodded and handed him the menus for Chinese restaurants that she had in her drawer. “These are all good places to eat, as I remember.” Molly looked up at him in question. “John and I have visited each of these restaurants and we both thoroughly enjoyed the food that they _eventually_ managed to serve us.” 

 

“I think that I'm going to have...” Molly started, snatching the first menu from Sherlock's hands and starting to read. “erm, the lemon chicken, beef in black bean sauce and egg friend rice.” She handed the menu back to the detective and nodded towards it. “What are you going to have?” Sherlock shrugged in his ' _I'm not hungry_ ' way. Molly knew better of course and started to press further. “No, you're not doing this tonight. You're going to eat something or I'm going to go out, buy this food, come back, strap you to the bed and force the food down your throat.” Sherlock looked at Molly and sighed deeply knowing that he'd lost this fight. 

 

“I'll just have whatever you're having.” Sherlock told her before picking up the phone and dialling the restaurants number. “Hello. We'd like to order, please.- _Yes_ , Chinese.- Number fifteen, thirty four and twenty three twice, please.- That should come to twenty pounds thirty.- Thank you.- 221. No, sorry. 26 Fleet Street.- Yes, thank you.- See you soon.” Sherlock hung up the phone and walked towards Molly pulling her into his embrace. “You're beautiful, do you know that?” 

 

“So you keep telling me.” Molly placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips before stepping back and asking him, “That's not the only reason you're showing affection is it?” Sherlock immediately straightened himself up, showing Molly that she was right. “Ah. I knew it. You _still_ don't believe that it's just a migraine, do you?” Sherlock didn't answer. _Typical, Sherlock._ Molly thought before pulling completely out of his embrace. 

 

“Molly.” Sherlock whispered pulling her back and into his chest tightly. “I'm sorry, it's just that I don't know what to do.” He admitted dropping his head into Molly's neck. This wasn't right. “I've never had _any_ experience with any of this and now, when I really want to help, I can't even believe what you tell me because I'm constantly paranoid that you'll leave me and I'll be alone forever. I know it is completely and utterly _ridiculous_ , but it's all I think about... When I sleep, mostly.” 

 

“It's okay, Sherlock. I understand how you feel. Really, I do.” Molly pulled Sherlock away and held his face in her hands before she added, “But if you _ever_ hurt me, I'll leave.” Her eyes were soft and warm, but they were also filled with a seriousness that Sherlock couldn't shake from his mind. He placed his hand on her cheek and brought her lips to his. When they broke away Molly smiled slightly. 

 

“I'll die before I hurt you, Molly.” Sherlock's head dropped slightly as he said those words to her, he wasn't lying although she probably thought that as being true. Molly hugged him tightly, surprising him a bit. He hugged her back with the same strength and took in her smell. _Strawberries_. Sherlock did love her shampoo. 

 

“Are you sure about that? I don't think I'm worth _that_ much, Sherlock.” Molly looked up at him. Before she could get an answer however, the door bell rang. She placed a chaste kiss to his lips before walking to the door. She stopped suddenly before turning back. “Who's going to answer the door?” She asked in a panicked state. 

 

“Well, I can't do it, can I? What will they think when they see a man answering a door, who's taking Chinese and dressed in _women's_ clothes.” Sherlock sent her a sly smirk before setting to work on the table. He usually helped when it came to setting the table, which Molly always appreciated. “Go ahead, _Mathew._ ” Sherlock teased before turning to the drawer. 

 

“Whatever you say, _Shirley_.” Molly added before she opened the door. She could sense Sherlock rolling his eyes behind her, but she didn't care. She'd gotten one upon him and she _would_ enjoy it. “Thank you. Here you go.” Molly said to the man, handing him the money and taking the food. She shut the door and went back into the kitchen. “This smells _great_. Doesn't it?” Sherlock nodded before sitting down at the table. 

 

While they ate, in silence for a while, Sherlock couldn't keep his eyes off of Molly. She was shivering, although that wasn't why he was staring. Once he'd taken his most recently mouthful, he took Molly's hand in his and placed kisses to each of the knuckles. Molly stopped eating to look up at the man and smile before eating again. Sherlock repeated his action another time causing Molly to place her fork back down on her plate. 

 

“What do you want, Sherlock?” Sherlock's brows creased in confusion as he kissed her hand once more. “I know you, and I know how your affection works. You usually want something. So what is it this time? A massage? Me to clean your flat again-”

 

“Hey. You did that out of boredom. I didn't ask you to clean it for me. You could have easily returned here instead of waiting for me at my flat.” Sherlock was subconsciously stroking Molly's ring finger with his thumb as he spoke. Molly noticed, however. “I told you that I would be out for a few hours because of a case, yet you remained at the flat. It's not my fault you ended up tidying!” Sherlock insisted. 

 

“Surely, then, it _is_ your fault because you left your _girlfriend_ all alone in your flat while you went to work and abandoned her completely. I don't believe that _that_ is the way a boyfriend should be.” Molly put her foot onto Sherlock's knee and moved in her chair slightly. 

 

“Don't look at me. I don't know what a boyfriend should act like!” Sherlock picked up his fork once more and put some food into his mouth. He chewed silently and then went to speak again. Before he could, however, Molly placed her finger against his lips. She didn't expect him to do anything, so was pleasantly surprised when Sherlock kissed the finger. “I don't want anything, Molly.” 

 

“Oh, really?” Molly asked, pulling her hand away and returning to her food. “Are you _absolutely_ sure about that statement, Mr Holmes?” Her wicked smile told Sherlock everything about what she was thinking. 

 

“Well. I _suppose_ there is one thing that I want, Miss Hooper.” Sherlock said, placing his fork onto his plate and moving around the table. He took Molly's face in his hand and kissed her passionately. After a few seconds of not breathing and twisting their tongues together, they broke apart and studied their opposite. 

 

“And what would that _particular_ thing be, Mr Holmes?” 

 

Sherlock's answer was short and to the point. He'd always prided himself on his bluntness, even if it hurt others most of the time. He only used long explanations when he was solving a crime or someone was being completely _dull_ and tedious. Sherlock answered Molly with one word, and one word only...

 

“ _You_.”

 

“Sherlock... You're still wearing my clothes.” 

 

“It's still cold.”

 

“Fair point...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> The next chapter is: 
> 
> Cosplay... I wonder what Sherlock will have to say about that, eh?


	7. Cosplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary has organised a surprise fancy-dress party for John's birthday. Sherlock has decided that it is his responsibility to choose Molly's costume for her. Will she like it? And does this mark a new step in their relationship? Sherlock seems to think so. He admits something to her that could change both of their lives, and then asks a question that could improve their relationship for the better. Or destroy it for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again. 
> 
> Here's the next chapter. 
> 
> I know that this isn't specifically Cosplay, but I don't think that Molly could convince Sherlock to go to one of these events. Meh. That's just my opinion I suppose.

_ **Cosplay** _

 

“You have _got_ to be joking me, Sherlock!” Molly was standing in 221B, her mouth open as far as it would go, as she stared at the outfit Sherlock had decided that she would wear to John's fancy dress party for his birthday. Of course John hadn't decided that he wanted a fancy dress/cosplay party for his birthday. No, that was all _Mary's_ idea. She'd only told Molly and Sherlock, making sure that they knew she would kill them if John found out about it before the day. 

 

“Absolutely not, Molly. I would never _joke_ about such a thing! You knew about John's surprise party at the same time as I did.” 

 

“I thought that _I_ would be picking out my own outfit because it is _my_ outfit.” Molly snapped as she walked forward to snatch the costume from Sherlock's hands. “Why this outfit, Sherlock? Couldn't you have gone a little more, I don't know, _me_?” 

 

“This is you, Molly. I remember when you went to school one of those days as _her_ , so why not now?”

 

“Erm... Probably because I'm not a fourteen year old school girl any more, Sherlock. Is that so hard to believe?” Sherlock looked Molly up and down and then raised his eyebrow. “Can you just _stop_ imagining me as her, please. We're trying to have a serious conversation here, Sherlock.” She could clearly see that he wasn't paying any attention to her mouth. Her body, on the other hand, well. Sherlock couldn't stop imagining Molly dressed in what he had bought for her, and he _desperately_ wanted to see her in it. Molly clicked her fingers and Sherlock snapped out of the trance he was in. “Please, just _listen_ to me. What are you going as?” Sherlock practically ran to the chair where his cosplay costume was laying and he held it up proudly. “ _Really_? You're going to be James Bond?!” Sherlock nodded excitedly, but his smile fell as soon as Molly started laughing. 

 

“ _What_!? What's wrong with me going as James Bond? I don't see the problem!” Sherlock snapped at her before placing the suit down and placing his long, slender hands onto his hips. 

 

“Oh, _nothing_. What is John going as?” Sherlock shrugged. “What, has he not called you yet to complain about his surprise?” Sherlock shook his head and smiled to the woman. “Well that's _very_ unlike John. Do you think Mary has told him yet?” He once again shook his head, his smile turning wicked, as he started to laugh. Molly soon joined in, the flat being filled with their laughter. 

 

“Will you _please_ go and try on your costume?” Sherlock practically pleaded. He _even_ had the pout and doe eyes to go with it, just so Molly _couldn't_ refuse. _Well done, Sherlock._ He thought to himself. 

 

“Okay. _Fine. But,_ if I don't like how it looks on me, then _I'm_ going to go and get the outfit I picked out for myself.” Sherlock smirked as Molly came up to him and placed a kiss to his lips. He wanted to continue, but he wanted to see Molly in the costume a whole lot more!

 

After five minutes of waiting, Sherlock had picked up his violin and started to play. He was _bored_ and that was _never_ good. When the song finished, Sherlock practically threw down his violin and stormed to the door of his room. He knocked out common courtesy and walked straight into the room. It was _his_ room after all. The sight that was before him sucked out every ounce of breath inside his body. He couldn't contain his smile, and it was a true and genuine smile. One that Molly had been hoping to see. 

 

“ _Wow.”_ Was the only word that Sherlock managed to say to Molly before she realised what he was so happy about. 

 

“ _Really_? You think so?” Sherlock nodded enthusiastically and moved closer to Molly, placing his arm around her waist. It was barely covered by her costume. They both stared into the mirror together and looked like they were truly a couple. _Finally_ they both breathed in unison. “I _never_ thought you'd go to that party, _let alone_ remember what I wore to it.” A kiss was placed to her cheek as she turned to face him. “Now. I need to know. Why Lara Croft?” Sherlock blushed slightly, not much, but he _definitely_ blushed at her question. 

 

“I didn't know what else to buy you!” Sherlock whispered to her as he got closer. He placed a soft kiss on Molly's lip before continuing. “I was in my Mind Palace searching for ideas and when I went into your room I found the memory of you in this outfit when we were fourteen. I thought that you looked gorgeous.” Sherlock continued to blush and even darker pink, _now_ it was visible. Molly stroked his cheek lightly. “I didn't tell you at the time, well, because I'm Sherlock Holmes. My brother always told me that ' _caring is not an advantage_ '.” Molly laughed at Sherlock and his 'impression' of his older brother. “I really did _hate_ anyone and everyone back then. But you, Molly, you were an exception and I _hated_ that.” Molly's eyes dropped. “If it's any consolation; I wish I had _never_ done that, because then we'd probably be married now.” Sherlock chuckled as Molly's eyes widened as far as they would go. 

 

“Y-you want to _marry_ me?” Molly pulled away from Sherlock and wrapped herself in a blanket on Sherlock's bed. She heard Sherlock sigh at the loss, _typical_. She sat down on Sherlock's bed, legs crossed, and looked down at the floor. “I don't think I want to get married yet...” Molly admitted as she hugged herself in the blanket. 

 

“I didn't mean right away, of course. I don't think that our relationship is at _that_ particular stage just yet, Molly. But for as long as I remember, I've wanted to be with you...” Sherlock's head dropped now. Molly had _really_ changed him during their relationship. “When you went away to do your studies and I mine, we lost contact. Then we met once again at Bart's and I chose to shield myself off from you _completely_. I think that _that_ was a mistake.” 

 

“It's okay, Sherlock. You don't need to explain yourself to me if you don't want to. If the time is right, and we're still together, I'm pretty sure that I'll say 'yes' to you.” Molly lifted Sherlock's chin so that he could see the seriousness in her eyes and face. 

 

“How sure is that, _exactly_?” Sherlock asked, winding his arms around Molly's waist and pulling her down onto the bed. 

 

“Erm... About _eighty_ percent.” Molly smiled as she followed Sherlock's movements. Sherlock was glaring at her. “Okay. I'm one hundred percent sure that I'll say 'yes' to you if you ask me. But, not right now.” 

 

“That outfit _really_ does suit you, Molly. I think you should wear it more often!” Sherlock said as he admired her through the gap in the blanket. He received a light slap on the arm and moaned at the loss of contact from Molly. 

 

“Right. We need to go. Get your _James Bond_ suit on and let's get going.” Molly started to walk away but was tugged back down onto the bed before she could walk to far. “Hey!” Sherlock straddled her on the bed and started to place open mouthed kisses along Molly's jaw. Once he realised that time was running out, and _fast_ , he tried another tactic. “N-no. Stop it! _Sherlock..._ ” Molly could only just speak through her giggling. Sherlock had started to tickle her and he didn't plan on stopping just for John's party. 

 

“Am I interrupting something?” Came a voice from the door, surprising both Sherlock and Molly so much that Sherlock actually _fell_ backwards off of the bed. “Sorry, dear. I was just nipping up to borrow your skull.” By the time Mrs Hudson had finished speaking, Sherlock had straightened himself up and forced himself from the floor. 

 

“It's fine, Mrs Hudson. We were doing nothing of importance. In fact, you may borrow my skull. But I need you to leave as soon as you've got it so that I can change into my costume for John's _ridiculous_ party.” Sherlock stepped out from the room and walked towards his skull. He picked it up and handed it to his landlady before literally _shoving_ her out of the door. “Now that she's gone, I can get changed.” He looked Molly up and down once more as she stood in the doorway of Sherlock's room. “I think that you should put your hair up in a ponytail like Lara does, Molly. Or a braid, that's also look great.” He then vanished into his room, with the suit, leaving Molly staring at her body. 

 

“Oh dear me.” Molly walked towards the mirror in the living room and started to braid her hair, but when it was formed in a ponytail. “That's better. Much more Lara Croft.” Molly started to practice her best Angelina Jolie impression into the mirror until she noticed a dark figure behind her. She turned and sighed with relief to find that it was only Sherlock. He was now dressed in his black suit and was fiddling with the bow tie. 

 

“I have always _despised_ bow ties or ties of any sorts!” Molly walked forward and started to tie his tie for him, Sherlock practically purring under the slight touches that he managed to feel. He closed his eyes and was therefore unaware of what was about to happen. Molly placed her lips against his and pushed him back, rather roughly, against the wall. Sherlock placed his hands on Molly's hips and turned them around so that she was pushed up against the wall. When they broke apart, both of them were out of breath and their pupils dilated. 

 

“That was good.” Molly smiled up at him. 

 

“Only good, Miss Hooper? I'm sure we can do better than that.” Sherlock smirked before attacking Molly's neck with his lips. He started to nip the flesh with his teeth and pulled her closer by placing his hands on the small of her back. When he stopped it was because Molly had slapped him on the arm. “What?” Molly pointed to the door. He saw a _very_ embarrassed and _very_ flustered Mrs Hudson standing in the doorway, covering her eyes. 

 

“I promise that I'll knock next time, Sherlock.” 

 

“What is it, Mrs Hudson?” Sherlock asked, pushing himself away from the wall with his hands and placing a soft kiss onto Molly's lips. 

 

“I was wondering whether we could share a taxi to John's party?” 

 

“Of course, Mrs Hudson. We wouldn't mind, would we, Sherlock?” Molly took her boyfriend's hand in hers and pulled him towards the door. 

 

“Of course not.” Sherlock said sarcastically. Before leaving, he grabbed his coat, scarf and phone and joined the two women at the stairs. Mrs Hudson was dressed as some weird creature that Sherlock couldn't name, exactly. Molly later informed him that she was dressed as one of the Flesh from Doctor Who and that she'd turned Sherlock's skull into a mini suit skeleton from the Library. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“I can't believe I'm at John's house and I'm dressed like _Lara Croft_!” Molly whispered harshly to Sherlock as they walked through the door. 

 

They could see John and Mary in the corner talking to another couple, who Molly didn't recognise. As they scanned the room, they also saw Greg and Mycroft standing together, drinks in hand and chatting. Greg was dressed as Indiana Jones and Mycroft as the Tenth Doctor. “Anything to wear a suit, Mycroft.” Sherlock whispered to Molly as they approached John. When Molly started to laugh, John and Mary noticed that they had arrived. They left the other couple and made their way towards Sherlock and Molly. John had anger in his eyes, and Sherlock found it _extremely_ hard to not laugh at his expression. 

 

“Nice to see you two are having a good time.” John snapped as soon as they were within arms length. He was dressed as Bilbo Baggins and, in Molly's opinion, it suited him. Mary was dressed as Elizabeth from Pirates of the Caribbean, in fact she looked fantastic. 

 

“Oh, John. We wouldn't miss _this_ for the World.” Molly managed to say between her and Sherlock's giggles. 

 

“I heard that you were told ages before tonight. Why didn't you tell me that I'd have to dress up?” 

 

“It was your future wife's idea, John.” Sherlock said before he turned to Mary, “Elizabeth Swan, am I correct?” Mary nodded and was about to ask how he knew before Sherlock interrupted. “I'm guessing that John hasn't told you what a _big_ fan I am of all things pirate.” Sherlock finished his sentence and smiled, without any sarcasm, before turning back to John. “If you _must_ know, John, Mary here asked us to keep it a secret from you.” John turned to his fiancé in disgust, before Molly spoke. 

 

“It was either that or _we_ ,” She gestured between Sherlock and herself, “would have had our outfits chosen by Mary here. And going by _your_ ,” Molly tried to hold back a laugh, “costume, I think that we chose the safest option for us. Not that I got to choose my outfit, mind you.” Molly looked up to stare at the detective. Three pairs of eyes were now watching him, and he immediately blushed a rather dark shade of pink. All three of the group started to laugh, leaving Sherlock bemused by the situation. 

 

“What? What's everyone laughing at?” 

 

“You picked Molly's outfit for her. Seriously, Sherlock. I don't think I've _ever_ done that for anyone. I'm _actually_ surprised that you managed to pick something that wasn't to do with the police or something. Lara Croft? What made you pick that, _exactly_?” Molly and Mary knew where this was going. Sherlock had made Molly wear the shorts, the top, the boots... _Even_ the belt which was complete with a to gun. 

 

“I remember a particular party which Molly and I both attended some twenty years ago. Molly was dressed as Lara Croft and I, well, I don't remember that part-”

 

“Sherlock was dressed as Dracula. Nobody recognised him.” Both John and Mary's eyes widened and they both stood biting their lips to stop themselves from laughing. Sherlock had turned away so that they couldn't see the frankly alarming shade of pink that had formed on his cheeks. 

 

“It was a memory that came to mind when I was thinking of a _suitable_ outfit for Molly to wear tonight.” 

 

“ _Suitable_?” John asked before both he and Mary broke down in laughter. How could Sherlock deny it any longer? “A-are you s-sure that's t-the reason, Sherlock?” John managed to blurt about before he almost collapsed against Mary laughing. 

 

“Yes. What other reason would there be, John?” Sherlock turned to Molly who was looking up at him sympathetically. _Ah, I've missed a joke._ Sherlock thought to himself. “What have I missed?” 

 

Molly stood on her tip toes and whispered into Sherlock's ear, “I think they're laughing because, well, it is their belief, and mine in fact, that you chose this costume so that you could see as much of my body as possible.” Sherlock smirked to himself. 

 

“I think the saying is, they've hit the nail on the head.” 

 

“What?!”

 

“I chose this costume for you so that you can show off your body. You hide behind all of those jumpers and jeans, when people could see _this_.” Sherlock pulled away and placed a kiss to Molly's lips before he received a slap on the arm... _Again_! “Ow. What was _that_ for?” 

 

Molly moved closer to whisper in his ear again, “For being such a moron and not telling me.” She moved away once more and placed another kiss to Sherlock's lips. They were separated by the sound of John coughing. 

 

“When can we expect a happy announcement?” John asked playfully; not expecting an answer. But before Molly could answer, Sherlock took his point and made it valid to everyone in the group. 

 

“When the time is right. I have already told Molly that I wish to marry her and I will complete that promise. She told me that she would say 'yes' when I ask her.” Molly slapped a hand against her forehead and turned a marvellous shade of pink. He heard her mutter several 'oh god's under her breath. “I wasn't supposed to say that was I?” Molly shook her head and then took Sherlock by the hand. 

 

“If you'll excuse us, I've got to talk to my boyfriend about some _personal_ things and how you _don't_ tell people about them.” Molly dragged Sherlock away, leaving Mary and John standing with their mouths open. They were _utterly_ speechless. 

 

“Sherlock. You tell _nobody_ else about what we've discussed, okay? It's between you and I.” Molly managed to drag Sherlock to the drinks table and force a drink into his hand. It was very typical of John to have a punch bowl. Or Mary, for that matter. “ _But_ , did you see the looks on their faces?” Molly and Sherlock both broke into a fit of laughter, they could still see Mary and John standing and looking at them, yet they didn't care. 

 

“Thank you, Molly.”

 

“What for?” Molly took a sip from her glass before she swallowed and made a face. “Ugh.” 

 

“Helping me prove a point to everyone. That includes myself you know.” Sherlock watched as Molly pulled the face and then took a sip of his own drink. “Ugh. You're right; this is _disgusting_.” Molly moved around the table and picked up a bottle of coke. 

 

“Would you rather have this?” Sherlock nodded, although he'd never really liked coke, _anything_ would be better than the punch. Molly poured two glasses handing one to Sherlock and keeping one for herself. They both stood and watched the people they knew talk to others. “Do you think they're talking about us, Sherlock?” 

 

“I think you might be correct in your thoughts.” Sherlock said as he took hold of Molly's hand. “Do you want to go?” Molly's eyes widened. “What? We've said happy birthday to John. He knows that I _don't_ do parties, so that's our excuse.” Sherlock received a smile and then a squeeze of the hand. 

 

“Yeah. We can always invite John over or something. Oh, wait. We don't live together. So which flat are we-” 

 

“I think this is a good time to ask you to move in with me.”

 

“Wha-” 

 

“Ah, John. Mary. Molly and I are going to go. You know how I don't do parties, John, so we'll invite you round for a movie night or something later on in the week. Laterz.” Molly found herself being dragged out of the party by Sherlock now, waving a small goodbye and an apology to the hosts. 

 

“Sherlock.” Molly said as she watched Sherlock hail a cab. “Did you really mean what you said?” 

 

“You're going to have to be _a bit_ more specific considering I've said _a lot_ of things during today. Which thing did I say?” Sherlock was obviously trying to avoid the question, but Molly wasn't having _any_ of it. 

 

“Oh, come on. You know _exactly_ what you said. About me moving in with you?” Sherlock dropped his head slightly as the taxi pulled up on the road beside him. He held the door open for her before slipping in himself. 

 

“221B Baker Street, please.” Sherlock told the driver before moving as far away from Molly as he could in the taxi. Molly tried to move over to him, but Sherlock just moved away further off of the seat. 

 

“Sherlock-”

 

“It just, sort of, slipped out, Molly. It's nothing to worry about.” Sherlock stared out of the window, his hand placed on the seat beside him. Molly's hand moved along the seat to take his in hers. She placed close mouthed kisses along his knuckles before using it to move closer to the man. He too moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her to his chest. 

 

“If you were asking me, I'd say yes.” Molly said looking up at the man as she stoked a hand across his chest. “But, what about sharing a bed. I don't think you'd be-” 

 

“I rarely sleep, any way. I don't think it'd be a problem if we shared a bed once in a while.” Sherlock told her, still staring ahead into the night. “If you'd like, you could stay over tonight to... Erm... Test it out.” Molly chuckled slightly, and eventually managed to agree. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“I'll erm, see you in the morning, Sherlock.” 

 

“I'll be in in a moment.” 

 

Molly tucked herself into Sherlock's bed. It was warmer than she expected it to be and definitely more comfortable than hers back at her flat was. She had borrowed one of Sherlock's shirts, the purple one in fact, and was now hidden under the covers. She didn't know what to think about sharing a bed with Sherlock, however she knew that it would take some getting used to. 

 

“Are you okay? You're looking around a lot more than usual, Molly.” Sherlock startled the woman as he walked into the room. He was in his blue silk dressing gown and pyjamas which made Molly think about how comfortable Sherlock must be in all of his clothes. 

 

“I-I'm fine, Sherlock. I just didn't expect to be in your bedroom tonight, you know.” Molly cowered deeper under the sheets as Sherlock took off his dressing gown, throwing it over the chair, and slipped into the bed next to her. He held open his arm to her so Molly moved closer, resting her head on his chest and putting an arm around his waist. “You're really warm, despite what people think.” 

 

“I am a human being, Molly. We are usually warm considering we're warm blooded animals.” Sherlock received a sigh from the woman next to him, so he looked down to find her laughing slightly. “What?” 

 

“Nothing. There's me, trying to give you a compliment and you just brush it off like you don't even care what I have to say about you.” 

 

“I'm sorry. You know I don't mean to do it. It's just my nature, I suppose.” Sherlock placed a small kiss to the top of Molly's head. “Let's go to sleep, Molly.” He earned a hum, and then moved to turn off the side light. “Goodnight, Miss Hooper. Sleep well.” 

 

“'Night, Sherlock.” Sherlock felt Molly's breathing level out. He listened to it until the moment he too fell into the darkness. Maybe Molly would help him sleep more, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> The next chapter is: 
> 
> Shopping. 
> 
> Let's see what Sherlock thinks about that situation, eh?


	8. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly starts to realise that it is just her that's doing all the work around the flat. When she asks Sherlock to go to the shops with her he refuses. Molly starts to question their relationship. What will Sherlock do to make it up to Molly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, again. :)
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this chapter and that the characters aren't too OCC for everyone's liking. Personally, my friend and I think that Sherlock should be more like this, but only towards Molly. But that's just our opinion of course. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

_ **Shopping** _

 

“ _Molly_.” Sherlock whined from the table in the kitchen. He was investigating different chemicals for the hundredth time while Molly was sitting on Sherlock's chair with a book next to the fire. After the first night of Molly staying over and Sherlock saying that 'you sleeping next to me seems to increase my bodies need for sleep', Molly had moved in to 221B with Sherlock a few days later. That was two weeks ago. Three weeks since John's party and Molly's embarrassment. Neither Sherlock or Molly had spoken about the event since, much to Molly's relief, and were hoping to keep it that way.

 

“What is it, Sherlock? You know I don't like being interrupted while I'm reading.” Molly groaned back at him, her eyes never leaving the page. If Sherlock never took the time to look at her, why should she take the time to look at him? Especially when there's an interesting book to read.

 

“What are you reading?” Sherlock still didn't look at the woman directly, but he could see her frame curled up in _his_ chair in the corner of his eye.

 

“Was that your question?” Molly asked as she lifted her eyes from the book for a moment before returning to the page. She didn't think that Sherlock would see, however that was the _exact_ moment he had decided to look at her.

 

“No. I just thought you'd want to help if I showed an interest in what you were doing.” Molly chuckled slightly at Sherlock's reasoning. Why did every question he ask have to come from him wanting something from her?

 

“I'm reading 'The Witches'. I know you think that Roald Dahl is _childish_ and _boring_ , but this is one of my favourite books, so I'm reading it. Plus, you're not entertaining me, so I've got nothing better to do. What is it that you want, Sherlock?” Molly tore her eyes from her book and placed it in one hand, making sure that she didn't lose her page, and looked up at Sherlock.

 

“Oh. I need a pen.” Molly's mouth dropped slightly as she sighed. She folded the page on her book and placed it down on the arm of the chair.

 

“You need... _a pen_.” Molly recited to him before folding her arms on her legs. “Sherlock,” She looked onto the table to see the pen next to him. “there's a pen right next to you.”

 

“Yes. It's a _felt tip_ , Molly.” Came Sherlock's reply; his eyes still not leaving the microscope.

 

“What? Does it not complete all of your pen needs, or something?” Now Sherlock turned to her, seeing the smirk that had formed on her lips. _That_ got him to turn away for a few seconds.

 

“Actually, I prefer ball point pens. So to answer your question, no. It doesn't fit with the pen needs that I require.” Sherlock flashed Molly a sarcastic smile before turning back to the microscope. Molly's smirk quickly faded as she picked up the book once more.

 

“Fine. But you can get your own pen. I'm too engrossed in my book to get up, _just_ to get _you_ a pen. Especially since you can just get off of your arse and get it yourself, Sherlock.” After a few moments, Sherlock's phone started to ring.

 

“Molly. Phone, please.” Molly's book was thrown onto the table in front of her.

 

“Where is it?”

 

“Kitchen table.” Was the immediate reply. Molly stood from the chair and moved into the kitchen. Opening the fridge she noted that every single one of Sherlock's experiments were in the correct places of the fridge. She was hungry, however there was no food. _Oh great,_ Molly thought to herself. _Time to go shopping._ She walked to Sherlock's side and tried to look at what he was doing. His phone abruptly stopped ringing.

 

“Molly. Why didn't you hand me my phone while it continued to ring.”

 

“ _You_ were right next to it. And I'm going shopping. Fancy coming with me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you completely sure? Last week I went shopping and then you got so _miffed_ at me for buying the wrong kind of _sugar_ that this week, I'm not taking _any_ chances.” Sherlock didn't move, let alone give Molly an answer. “Please, Sherlock. It would be good to spend some time with you. Even if it is just _shopping_.” Molly moved to the doorway to place her coat around herself.

 

“You know what type of sugar is to my preference now, Molly. Surely you don't need me to come with you to the shops. You are a woman after-”

 

“No. Just stop! Stop _right_ there!” Molly practically shouted at the man, managing to tear his gaze from the microscope. “You can't just say things like _that_! It was totally out of order, even from you, Sherlock.” Sherlock's face had paled completely and his frown almost made Molly feel sorry for him... _Almost_. “I should have listened to John, you know. He told me that I shouldn't move in with you until I was _absolutely_ sure that you would pull your weight around the flat. But what have I done since I've been here? Tidied. Cleaned. Gone shopping for everything that we need. Have you helped once? _No._ ” Molly slammed the door behind her, leaving a very confused Sherlock behind her.

 

When she rushed back, she saw a glimmer in Sherlock's eyes that thought she'd forgiven him. “Forgot my shopping list.” Molly snapped angrily, snatching the list from the fridge before slamming the door once more. Sherlock was once again left alone to think about what he'd done. He left his place in the kitchen, _and_ his experiments, and threw himself onto the sofa. His hands were now under his chin, in the normal Sherlock style fashion.

 

It didn't take him long to realise what he'd done wrong, but when he did he jumped from the sofa quicker than ever before. Before his mind had even registered it, his coat and scarf were on and he was flying down the stairs after Molly. He needed to sort this out... And _fast_.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Sugar. Check. And yes, Sherlock, it is the correct one this time.” Molly was mumbling to herself as she moved around the isles of the supermarket. She hadn't realised that she'd been talking to herself, but she did subconsciously find it rather _soothing_. “What's next? Bread.” Molly let out a sigh as she started to walk to the bakery section. What she found there though, shocked her more than the little amount of break that the bakery had.

 

“Two brown loaves, please.” Molly heard the baritone voice before she recognised whom it had come from. There was Sherlock, a trolley full of shopping, buying Molly's favourite bread. She couldn't believe her eyes and therefore couldn't stop her jaw from dropping. Molly had only managed to get the sugar. So how had Sherlock managed to get _everything_ before her? “Oh, hello, Molly.” Sherlock broke Molly from her trance. She had clearly been staring at the man in wonder and utter _confusion_.

 

“Sherlock. What is _this_?” Molly gestures to the shopping in his trolley before looking back at him. Sherlock's eyes were soft and filled with sincerity. He moved closer with the trolley and then pulled Molly into his embrace.

 

“I'm sorry, Molly. I didn't mean what I said to you. It was _completely_ out of order and you don't deserve to hear things like that.” Sherlock hugged her tighter to his body before letting go and saying, “So, in order to apologise to you, I have done all of the shopping, in record time I can see,” He gestured towards Molly's trolley before finishing,” and I will help you every week with any cleaning or shopping if it means that I don't lose you because I am not ' _pulling my weight around_ ', as people have said it.” Sherlock looked down towards her before adding, “I truly am sorry, Molly.” He heard Molly sigh before she moved up to place a kiss on Sherlock's lips. When they broke away he asked, “Does _this_ mean I'm forgiven?” Molly laughed before taking Sherlock's hand in hers.

 

“Of course you are. I can't actually believe that in the time it took me to get the sugar you managed to get _all_ of the shopping!” Molly placed a hand to her forehead and started to rub. “Now, please tell me honestly, am I dreaming?”

 

“No. We are really at the shop and I have really put all of the shopping into bags in the trolley.” When Molly lifted her eyes again, Sherlock had really put everything into shopping bags. “Don't worry. I think you might have blacked out for a few minutes because I was shouting at the girl who was serving us. I believe it was out of embarrassment.” Sherlock said pulling Molly close to him once more. “I've called Mycroft and he's willing to give us a car to get this stuff home.”

 

“Oh, right. Yeah, there it is.” Molly stated pointing to a black car that had a man, whom was also dressed in black, standing outside waiting for them. “Maybe we can get a car of our own.” Sherlock immediately stopped in the middle of the pavement. “What?”

 

“I don't like to drive. Too much hassle, and _way_ too much money. Cabs are much more fun for a start, and cheaper overall.” Sherlock continued to walk until they reached the car. The man took all of the bags from their hands before opening the car door for them and putting the bags in the boot. “I love you, Molly and I'm sorry for any anger, disappointment or hurt that I might have caused you today.”

 

Molly took Sherlock's hand in hers, kissed each one of his knuckles and then replied. “Do you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I love you too.” Using her toes, Molly raised herself to place her arms around Sherlock's neck. She pulled him down slightly so that she could whisper in his ear, “I hope that you got the strawberries and chocolate.” When Sherlock saw her face again, Molly was biting her bottom lip.

 

“Oh, don't worry, Miss Hooper. I didn't forget those.” Sherlock bent down to place a few soft kisses on Molly's lips. When they started to get a bit more hungry, they both heard a cough from the driver. “Come along, dear.” Taking Molly's hand, Sherlock's slid into the back of the car and brought her straight into him. Let's just say that this wouldn't be the last time Sherlock went shopping with Molly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> The next chapter is: 
> 
> Hanging Out With Friends.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sherlock promised John and Mary that they could come over to watch movies with himself and Molly. Molly and John hatch a plan together so that Sherlock can't wiggle himself out of another friend situation because he does that... A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I'm posting this early because I won't have my laptop for the next few days and I'm trying to make sure that I keep up to date every day, so. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. I hope that you enjoy it. :)

_ **Hanging Out With Friends** _

 

**Incoming Call**

 

“Hello. Molly Hooper speaking.” 

 

“ _Hey, Molly. It's John.”_

 

“Oh, hey, John. How are you doing?” 

 

“ _I'm good, thank you. How about yourself? I hope that Sherlock hasn't driven you to insanity yet!”_ Molly chuckled down the phone line and was met with a slight chuckle from John. _“But, seriously, Molly, how are you?”_

 

“I'm good, John. _Honestly_.”

 

“ _That's_ great _to hear, if I'm honest. I thought that Sherlock might have said something literally_ evil _by now causing you grief. I've heard him tell me_ several _times about strawberries and chocolate. Is that something I should know about?”_

 

Molly blushed so pink that she thought John would probably know just down the phone. “Is there a reason you called, or is it just to taunt me about my boyfriend's slip of the tongue?” 

 

John laughed down the phone before replying, _“Sherlock mentioned something about a movie night. We_ still _haven't done that. I think we should before Mary and I get married.”_

 

“Yeah. I think that's a good idea. You haven't got a case tonight have you?” 

 

“ _No-pe.”_ John made a pop sound on the 'p' to make sure that Molly wouldn't let Sherlock get out of this, however hard he tried. 

 

“Oh. Great! Can you and Mary both make tonight, then?” 

 

“ _We sure can. Oh, and Molly.”_

 

“Yes, John.”

 

“ _Make sure that Sherlock_ doesn't _know about this until the last minute. I don't want him twisting his way around it and refusing the idea when it was him that actually suggested it.”_

 

“You know how Sherlock is. He'll see straight through me, John. What am I supposed to tell him?” 

 

“ _I don't know. Just make something up. Oh, gotta go. We'll be round in about fifteen minutes. Sorry, Mary is pulling me away from the phone as we speak. I won't bother you with the details-”_

 

“Yes, please _don't_!” Molly said before she hung up the phone and returned to her book. She had to wait though because Sherlock _insisted_ that she read to him. Luckily for John and Molly's plan, Sherlock had gone to the bathroom so he didn't hear the conversation. 

 

“Molly, I'm back. Where were we?” Sherlock threw himself back onto the sofa and placed his head into Molly's lap. He always enjoyed this position because Molly would stroke his hair _just_ the way he liked it. 

 

“I'm sorry, Sherlock. What were we reading, _exactly_?” 

 

Sherlock sighed rather loudly as he read the title off of the cover, “The Complete Illustrated Works Of Lewis Carroll.” Molly sighed. “More specifically, Alice in Wonderland. I don't know why you enjoy this book, Molly. It is awfully _childish_!” 

 

“Then why did _you_ ask me to read it to you?” Molly snapped before resting the book on Sherlock's face. “i think it's a lovely story.” 

 

“Well, you _would_ think that.” Sherlock mumbled under the book just so Molly wouldn't hear. 

 

“What was that?” Molly asked removing the book and turning back to the page they'd reached. “I couldn't hear you under the book. In fact, I may put a book on your face more often.” 

 

“That would be _highly_ inappropriate, Molly! Please, continue with the chapter.” Sherlock rested his hands on his chest and shut his eyes. He liked to imagine each event as it happened. 

 

Molly cleared her throat before she began, “ _Fury said to the mouse, that he met in the house, 'Let us both go to law:_ I _will prosecute you.- Come, I'll take no denial: We must have trial; for really this morning I've nothing to do.' Said the mouse to the cur. 'Such a trail, dear Sir. With no jury or judge, would be wasting our breath.' 'I'll be judge. I'll be jury,' said cunning old Fury: 'I'll try the whole, cause and condemn you to death._ ” 

 

“That was a long story that Alice didn't manage to understand, Molly.” Sherlock said opening his eyes as the door bell rang. 

 

“I know, Sherlock. Would you mind moving so that I can go and answer the door, please?” Molly asked, trying to move the man from her lap. He refused to even lift his head though, which was _serious_ problem. On Molly's part, any way. 

 

“What do _I_ get I return for moving?” Sherlock asked slyly, pressing his head down further into Molly's lap. The doorbell rang once more. 

 

“As soon as Mary and John have gone, you can have anything you want! I promise. Now, an I go and get the door?” Sherlock lifted his head but as Molly moved to get the door, he grabbed her wrist. 

 

“I do hope that you keep to your promise, Miss Hooper.” Sherlock pulled her down and placed his lips to hers before letting her get the door. Molly practically fell down the stairs... What had she just done? 

 

“Ah, Mary. John.” Molly hugged and placed kisses on the cheeks of both Mary and John as they walked through the door. “Sherlock still doesn't know, even though I just told him that you were at the door.” Molly trailed off at the end of her sentence. “Go on up.” 

 

“I _still_ can't believe that he hasn't driven you out of here yet, Molly.” Mary told the slightly taller woman as she walked up the stairs. “I seriously expected him to have pushed you out of his life. But here he is,” She stopped to see Sherlock _pretending_ to be asleep on the sofa, “'sleeping' like a baby.” All three of the adults laughed at how childish Sherlock was acting. 

 

“Do you think he'd realised what's going on?” John whispered as they entered the kitchen. Molly hummed in agreement and put the kettle on. “ _This_ is why I told you not to tell him, Molly. He throws tantrums like a toddler.” 

 

“ _You_ don't live with him any more. It always 'Molly, get me my pen.' when his pen is _always_ right next to him. Oh, its a felt tip, is it?” Molly sighed before she slumped down into a chair. 

 

“I don't appreciate you all talking about me behind my back!” Sherlock surprised everyone so much that John actually fell off his chair. When he peered over the table to see the man that had caused it, he could see the culprit holding back a laugh as best as he could. “John- W-why did you fall off the chair?” Sherlock couldn't hold it back any more. He had to brace himself on the door frame to stop himself from falling over while he laughed. 

 

“So _this_ was your plan all along, was it, Sherlock?” Molly asked as she helped John up from the floor. But before long, she couldn't help but join Sherlock in his laughter. “Wait, s-so you pretended to be asleep, j-just so you could scare us? Now who's childish?” Sherlock smiled at Molly, she sensed the sarcastic stage behind it though. 

 

“Great. Now that you've made me fall off my chair, can we please watch a movie now.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Which film are we going to watch?” John asked standing up from the chair and moving to the living room. 

 

“Let's go and help him move the furniture, Mary.” Molly said as she walked towards Sherlock. “Come on, let's go. I promise that I will do _anything_ that you ask after they leave. Okay?” Sherlock kissed Molly before moving into the living room and helping John move the chairs and sofa so that everyone could see the tv. “Bugsy the sofa!” Molly shouted as she went to pick a film. 

 

“Does that leave John and I with the chairs then?” Mary asked as she held John's hand. 

 

“Well, unless you want to steal Mr Protective over there's girlfriend, then I'm sure sitting next to me on the chairs will be fine.” John answered placing a small kiss to Mary's lips. 

 

“John, I'm sure that you can come up with more _interesting_ names than that one.” Sherlock snapped completing his slight rave with a sarcastic smile. “Which film are we watching, dear?” He asked moving closer to Molly and placing a hand on the small of her back. John and Mary both looked at each other and giggled. 

 

“I thought you said he _wasn't_ sentimental?” Mary whispered pulling John down into the chairs. “But he just called Molly 'dear'.” John laughed and placed a kiss to Mary's forehead, and they both watched the couple on the floor. 

 

“How about... 'Skyfall'?” Molly said as she poked Sherlock in the rib. It was obvious to _her_ that she was teasing, and to the couple behind. Sherlock, however, didn't understand the joke. “Oh, for goodness sake. You dressed up as James Bond. You can't tell me that you've _never_ seen Skyfall?” Sherlock shook his head. “What!? We're watching it!” Molly exclaimed as she shoved the DVD into the player. She pulled Sherlock back to the sofa and made sure that he wrapped his arm around her. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

When the film had finished, John and Mary looked over to see Molly and Sherlock asleep on each other. Molly had her legs tucked under herself, her arm wrapped around Sherlock's waist and her head resting on Sherlock's shoulder. Meanwhile, Sherlock had his legs crossed at the ankles, his arm wrapped around Molly's shoulders, his hand holding Molly's in his and his head leaning against Molly's. 

 

“Do you think they're happy together, Mary?” John asked as he turned the tv off. “They certainly _look_ happy together when they're sleeping.” 

 

“I think they are. He called her dear, John. I think that's the only confirmation you need.” Mary started to drag John out the door when she said, “And I think that we should leave them alone and get back to our own stuff.” 

 

“Of course.” Mary and John left the flat giggling like school children. 

 

Molly and Sherlock didn't move the whole night, happy to just be in each other's embrace. But when they awoke in the morning the first thing that was said was, “Do you think they believed it?” 

 

“I don't know, Molly. The last thing I heard was John laughing at something Daniel Craig said.” 

 

“His name is James Bond, Sherlock.”

 

“Oh, I know. I _did_ go to John's party as him.” Molly just rolled her eyes and went to the bathroom to have a shower, leaving Sherlock to his own devices. In her mind, that was _never_ a good idea! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Animal Ears


	10. Animal Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Molly is ill, Sherlock goes to the pub with Greg and John and comes back drunk. Well, that's what they believe any way. In order to keep the drunk act up, Sherlock decided that he's going to turn Molly's hair into animal ears. Will Molly see right through his act, or will Sherlock convince her that he's just amazing when he's drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm posting this early because I'm away. 
> 
> I'll tell you something. This chapter really threw me. I knew that I wanted Molly to have the ears and for them to be made from her hair, but the story behind it... I don't know. I hope it's okay!
> 
> I hope that you enjoy! :)

_ **With Animal Ears** _

 

“Do you know what, Sherlock? Sometimes I wonder whether you're just clinically insane or whether you do this for your own personal pleasure and to torture people.” Molly was standing in the living room, shouting at a very guilty looking detective, hands on her hips as she questioned about something strange on her head when she woke up this morning. 

 

“I think they rather suit you, Molly. They're not causing you any pain and they do _real_ things for your attractiveness. You could easily pass as a monkey if you wanted to!” Sherlock managed to say before he burst out laughing. He couldn't stop looking at the ears that he'd created with Molly's hair. He didn't go out and buy animal ears. No, that wasn't _Sherlock_ enough for the situation. He had to _physically_ make animal ears out of Molly's _hair_. 

 

“So what you're saying is, you gave me animal ears because you think that it would make me _hotter_...” 

 

“Maybe.” 

 

“You really are insane! Did anyone assist you in your games, Sherlock? Because I will kill _all_ of you!” Sherlock sat back in his chair and smirked as he watched his girlfriend poke the ears on her head. 

 

“Molly, it was only me. John dropped me back off from the pub, and I might have been _slightly_ tipsy when I came to bed...” 

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Previous Nightmares**

 

“John, I-I don't fink that I-I can walk up t-the stairs succ-su-essfughly.” Sherlock groaned as John unlocked the door to the flat. 

 

“Don't worry, Sherlock. I'll help you up the stairs. I can't believe you got drunk on one pint of larger!” John said as he helped his friend up the stairs. John had managed to stay completely sober whilst he went out with Greg and Sherlock, leaving the other two men to get pissed. Well, Sherlock any way. It'd taken him one larger, the worst result _ever_ in John's book, and was now being helped up the stairs by one of the others. 

 

When the two men reached the bedroom John pushed Sherlock inside, as to give Molly _some_ privacy and left the flat, pushing the key under the door after him. As soon as he heard the door close and lock, Sherlock straightened himself out completely. He was known to have been great at acting when the time called for it, and tonight was no exception. 

 

“ _Idiot_.” Sherlock whispered to the room when he heard John leave. “Oh, Molly. You should have seen it. Lestrade and John thought that I had gotten myself drunk after _one_ pint of larger. I do enjoy acting. Anything to get me out of _those_ situations!” Sherlock decided that Molly wouldn't be able to hear him, but he continued to talk any way. He noticed how Molly's hair was still rather tidy even though it was a couple of hours sine she'd gone to bed. Being ill, she couldn't have gone to be any sooner. Sherlock _had_ offered to stay, but Molly insisted that he enjoy himself with his friends. 

 

“Ah. _Now_ , to put the final part of my 'plan' into action, eh, Molly.” Sherlock moved close to Molly as he tried to work out the best thing to do with her hair. He could easily give her nits, which she would _never_ forgive him for-Not a good option. He could pour lots of slime into her hair and turn her into one of those Halloween monsters-Would get angry but forgive him if he apologised in the right way. No. Sherlock decided upon something that would make Molly look hot as well as annoy her and complete his drunk act. 

 

Sherlock moved to Molly's draw and took out her hair brush and hair spray. He also took out four hair bubbles and eight hair clips. Thinking through his plan, he realised that Molly would probably wake up due to the smell of the spray or from the sound. He needed something to block out the sound and the smell so that Molly didn't wake up. 

 

After checking that Molly was definitely asleep, she was, Sherlock moved to find some earplugs and a clothes peg. In the kitchen he found a spare pair of ear plugs that John used to use when he didn't want to hear Sherlock playing the violin. This set, though, _hadn't_ been used. In Mrs Hudson's flat, she was still awake and let him in willingly, he found a clothes peg and hurried back upstairs to put his plan back into action. 

 

Molly was still sleeping soundly, much to Sherlock's joy, and didn't move the whole time Sherlock twisted and shaped her hair so that she now had two monkey ears above the rest of her hair. Sherlock was actually quite talented when he wanted to be, and _now_ was one of those times. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

**Morning**

 

Molly didn't wake up early as she knew that her sickness probably hadn't gone yet and the fact that it was a Sunday made her feel even _lazier_. She only decided to wake up when she heard a knock at the door of the bedroom. 

 

“Com'in.” Molly slurred as she sat herself up in the bed. Sherlock appeared in the doorway with a tray of food and drinks. “Sh'lock?” He moved closer to her and placed the tray on the bed. 

 

“I thought that I'd make you breakfast in bed to apologise for leaving you last night. I now realise that I should have stayed behind and looked after you despite what you told me to do. I am sorry for that.” Molly could barely see so she reached out for Sherlock's hand. He took it almost instantly pressing kisses from her knuckles, to her wrist and then up her arm to her shoulder. “Are you feeling any better?” Sherlock couldn't stop himself from looking at what he'd done to Molly's hair in his 'drunk state' the previous night. 

 

“I am now. Thank you, Sherlock. You didn't have to make breakfast in bed.” Molly looked down at all the food and then had a sudden thought. “Would you like to share it with me?” Sherlock almost looked offended at the idea. “You made it, surely you should help me eat it.” Molly teased biting her lip. Putting the tray onto Molly's lap for a second, Sherlock shuffled himself closer to her and pulled the tray back onto his own lap. 

 

“What would you like first?” 

 

“Strawberries.” Molly said simply, staring at the man's eyes. 

 

“Of course, Molly.” Sherlock picked up a strawberry from the bowl and placed it to Molly's lips. She took her bite before Sherlock turned the strawberry back to himself and finished it. They both chewed in silence; Molly staring at Sherlock's features and Sherlock staring at the ears, that Molly still hadn't noticed, on her head. 

 

They spent the next half an hour eating and drinking everything that Sherlock had _actually_ prepared _himself_. Turns out, he didn't need Mrs Hudson's help after all. 

 

“How was the pub with Greg and John?” Molly asked causing Sherlock to stiffen. “That bad, huh?” Sherlock nodded before pulling Molly close. “Look, this is great and everything but I _really_ need to use the loo. So, if you wouldn't mind.” Sherlock let her go immediately following her as she went into the bathroom. As soon as he heard the door lock he ran from the room, abandoning the tray, and throwing himself into his chair. A few moments later, after the toilet flushed _surprisingly_ , Sherlock heard a scream from the bathroom. Molly had _finally_ noticed the ears that were on her head. “ _ **SHERLOCK!**_ ”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Your excuse is that you were _drunk_? How many did you have?” Sherlock smirked at the woman as she still stood before him. 

 

“One larger.” Sherlock's smirk grew wider as Molly realised what had _actually_ happened. 

 

“We drink all the time. You _never_ get drunk on one larger, Sherlock.” 

 

“Exactly!” Molly threw herself at the man with a pillow, she hit him over and over before he managed to slip his arm around her waist and lift her into the air. “They suit you, Molly. Just leave them in!” Sherlock pleaded as he put the Pathologist back onto the ground. 

 

“I can't believe you, Sherlock Holmes. Even today you surprise me.” Molly started to walk back to the bathroom, probably to sort out the ears on her head, but turned back to add. “I thought there was something up when _Sherlock Holmes_ made breakfast in bed.” Adding a quick smirk to her sentence, Molly disappeared into the room. “Next time _you_ get the ears!” She managed to shout as the water started. Sherlock only just heard, but he smiled nonetheless at Molly's hunger for revenge. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. 
> 
> The next one is:
> 
> Kigurumis!
> 
> I'll probably post it later so that I can get up to Friday out of the way. I'll be tired when I return Friday any way, so I'll probably forget. Hence the next update.


	11. Kigurumis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another movie night, John and Mary have left a gift for both Sherlock and Molly. When they open the box, one half of the couple is happy with what they've received. The other, however, has to be shown Tumblr and told that otters are loved by their other half.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.
> 
> Here's chapter eleven. I hope that you enjoy it! :)

_ **Wearing kigurumis** _

 

After the first movie night that the two couples shared together, the nights happened more regularly and Sherlock learnt to enjoy himself. Each time though, Molly and Sherlock fell asleep in each others' embrace, leaving John and Mary to surprise them with a gift for both of them. 

 

“Oh.” Molly looked at the neatly wrapped box that sat on the kitchen table, on its own surprisingly, and seemed to watch her. “Sherlock!” Molly shouted to her other half. She knew that he was just about to get into the shower, but _this_ was far more dangerous than any shower that Sherlock planned to take. When she received no reply from her partner, she continued to shout, “John and Mary left another 'gift'!” Upon hearing the door slam open, if that were even possible, Molly sat herself down at the table. 

 

“What is it _this_ time, Molly? Last time they left us several jars of strawberry jam.” Molly looked up and raised her eyebrows. “What? I didn't _ask_ John to continue talking about it. It just slipped out while we were on a case, that's all.” 

 

“Where are you going?” Molly asked as she watched Sherlock leave the room to go back to his shower. She didn't want to open this 'gift' all on her own because it was from John _and_ Mary, meaning it could have a booby-trap hidden in it in any of the gifts they give. 

 

“ _I'm_ going to have the shower that I need, while you open the box and discover whatever _amazing_ 'treat' our friends have left us, once again.” Sherlock shouted back before closing the door and turning the shower back on. 

 

“You _always_ leave me to open the box on my own.” Molly whispered to herself before slowly pulling the bow off from the box. She moved forward carefully lifting the lid and jumping back from it, just in case it was booby-trapped. When nothing came out, Molly managed to breath a sigh of relief. Her eyes widened at the sight in the box. “You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me.” She said as she pulled two kigurumis out of the box. “Better surprise Sherlock then.” Molly ran into their bedroom and started to change. This _would_ surprise Sherlock, for sure!

 

~*~*~*~

 

Twenty minutes later and Sherlock _finally_ vacated the bathroom to go back into kitchen and put the kettle on. He hadn't noticed the strange creature that was sitting in his chair in the living room, so he sat down at the table. He remembered the box that still sat in front of him on the table and decided to take a look and see if Molly had taken what had been given to them. 

 

Molly was getting impatient because for someone so observant, Sherlock hadn't noticed her once. John and Mary chosen her a Spyro kigurumis, for reasons unknown. She loved hers, on the other hand she loved the _genius_ behind Sherlock's. 

 

“Sherlock, would you mind making me a cup of tea, please?” Molly had started to train, in a way, Sherlock into making her tea instead of the other way round. It was the _least_ he could do. Molly heard a _very_ loud and _extremely_ deep sigh come from the direction of the kitchen. She could help herself, she had to laugh at her boyfriend's reaction. He always had the best after all. “What is it, Sherlock?” Now was her chance to show Sherlock what she was wearing. 

 

“It's this _stupid_ 'gift', Molly. Do they seriously think that we'll wear-Oh, for god's sake!” Sherlock stopped his sentence abruptly as he now saw what Molly was wearing. Molly was standing with her legs and arms wide apart in order to show Sherlock everything. 

 

“Do you like it?” Sherlock looked the newly-formed dragon up and down and then smiled. Molly giggled slightly before turning. “Look, it even has a tail.” She picked up the tail and waved it across Sherlock's nose. 

 

“If you don't stop that, Molly, I'll have to cut that tail off!” Sherlock said as he looked back at the box, his kigurumis still inside. “Why do you get the dragon and I'm stuck with _this_?” Sherlock whined as he took the material fro the box and hung it next to Molly from his hands. Molly had to bite her lip as Sherlock studied the kigurumis rather obliviously. 

 

“Oh, you don't know about Tumblr, do you?” Molly said almost laughing at Sherlock. She got the joke, _obviously_ , but Sherlock didn't. This made the _whole_ situation completely hilarious to Molly. Sherlock, on the other hand, was getting rather annoyed. 

 

“Molly. If you don't tell me what _this_ ,” Sherlock snapped thrusting the kigurumis in his hands, “is, then I'll have no choice but to refuse any dates for the next few weeks.” Sherlock knew he had one when Molly looked down at the ground in contemplation. 

 

“I tell you what. If you put _that_ on, then I'll show you what I'm laughing at. Deal?” Molly held out her hand to the detective watching as his eyes danced over her face and hand in turn. Her eyebrows raised and he took her hand giving it a firm shake. 

 

“Fine. I don't understand why I'm the otter though, Molly. Surely I should be the dragon!” Sherlock said before he retreated, rather slowly, in the bedroom to change into the kigurumis. Molly smiled at him before going to get her laptop. 

 

“Spyro, Sherlock. His name is Spyro.” Molly mumbled, earning her a groan from the other room. How Sherlock had managed to hear her, she didn't know, so she continued to look up 'Sherlock' on Tumblr. God, Sherlock would be in for a surprise when he saw the screen that Molly had stopped on. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“ _Sherlock_... You're taking _forever_ in there!” Molly whined and the door promptly opened revealing a very _embarrassed_ looking Sherlock dressed as, nothing better to fit him, an otter. “Wow.” She spluttered as Sherlock moved forward to slump himself down on the sofa next to Molly. 

 

“Don't laugh.” Sherlock spat, folding his arms as he sulked. 

 

“Are you _sure_ that you're ready to see what people post about you?” Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed, Molly took that as a yes. Biting her lip, rather hard in fact, Molly turned the screen to Sherlock so that he could see the otter posts that people had been comparing to. Sherlock's mouth open wide and his eyebrows raised. She watched as Sherlock scrolled through the posts. There were posts about the otters, about John and Sherlock's 'relationship' and about Sherlock and Molly ' _finally realising how it she be_ '. When he handed the laptop to Molly and slid down the sofa slightly, Molly asked him, “Are you okay?” 

 

“I-I'm at the centre of public humiliation!” Sherlock slid completely off of the sofa and huddled his knees to his chest. 

 

“Hey. I think you look _adorable_ wearing this.” Molly told her detective, stroking his hair and sliding down to sit with him on the floor. “ _And_ , Mr Grumpy, I also happen to _love_ otters!” Sherlock's head lifted to look Molly in the eyes as she gave him the sweetest smile he'd ever seen her give. 

 

“Really?” Sherlock asked in his five year old voice. Molly, although she would _never_ tell anyone, _especially_ Sherlock, really _loved_ the voice that Sherlock took on when he was whining or being cute. “You think that _I_ , Sherlock Holmes the greatest detective to ever step upon the Earth, am _adorable_.” Sherlock practically spat the last word, despite secretly enjoying hearing Molly telling him that he was in fact adorable. 

 

“Of course, Sherlock. I think I prefer your kigurumis, by the way.” Molly said as she stroked the ears on the hood which was still on Sherlock's head _surprisingly_. 

 

“So do I, Molly. I prefer mine as well.” Sherlock teased before turning away from his girlfriend as she slapped him slightly on the arm. He had to bite his tongue in order to stop himself from laughing at how gullible Molly could be when he told her certain things. 

 

“Hey! You're supposed to say that you like mine better.” Molly whined at him before puling herself close to her chest. 

 

“I know,” Sherlock started before he placed a few soft kisses onto Molly's lips and jaw. “I just couldn't resist!” Sherlock continued to place kisses around Molly's face before he stopped, looked around the room and said, “Didn't you ask for tea?” Molly slapped him once more before pushing the man off from her body and walking towards the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed it. :)
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Making Out.


	12. Making Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly finds out something that will affect both her and Sherlock and their future together. When Sherlock sees that something is obviously bothering Molly, he tries to help and understand but Molly denies him the information. He knows it already, of course, having a brother in the Government always helps. To prove Molly is okay she has to do one thing, but is it just a distraction from the truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, everyone. :)
> 
> Here's the next chapter. I hope that it isn't too angsty- I'm just trying to use a story line for the future so that I can plan and go along with it until something happens. It'll all lead to the argument chapter. See, plans help. :)
> 
> Any way, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

_ **Making Out** _

 

After hours of completing and filing autopsy after autopsy, Molly was glad to finally be home and enjoy her well earned cup of tea. Her head was full of the tiredness and stress that came with the job, but also along with dealing with a thirty five year old child, whom wouldn't leave her to do her job without turning up and 'helping'. Today happened to be a bad day for Molly, she'd just found out some news, which she didn't want to tell Sherlock _just_ yet, and now she had _another_ headache. 

 

“Molly.” Sherlock finally spoke after an hour of completely ignoring or acknowledging the fact that his girlfriend was sitting next to him and was in pain. He was currently studying _another_ slide under the microscope for the hundredth time. 

 

“ _Yes_ , Sherlock.” Molly replied, rubbing her temples vigorously as this particular headache was been _extremely_ stubborn with her today. It just wouldn't leave her alone!

 

“Are you going to continue to practically hide yourself from me, even though I can see the tears that keep forming in your eyes that you 'secretly' wipe away? Or-”

 

“ _Don't_ -”

 

“ _Or_ are you going to tell me what's driven you to have five cups of tea in the last,” Sherlock took his eyes off the microscope for a second to check his watch, giving Molly a brief look, before returning his gaze onto the slide. Molly was clutching her tea rather _harshly_. “hour and a half. There's something _bothering_ you?”

 

“It's just this _damn_ headache, Sherlock. Nothing more.” Molly looked at her boyfriend now, noticing how his eyebrows raised as soon as she could see them. “What?” 

 

“I'm _not_ convinced, Molly. There's _always_ something troubling you yet you never tell me what. Why? Why can't you tell me? It's because you think that I don't care about how you're feeling isn't it.”

 

“The fact that you're not even paying attention _now_ leads me to believe that, yes.” Molly mumbled to herself before Sherlock looked up at her, obviously he didn't hear what she'd said. “Sherlock,” Molly sighed and placed her hands upon Sherlock's, “I promise you that there's nothing bothering me or affecting me in _any_ way. I will _always_ tell you!” Molly's hand tightened around Sherlock's and pulled it towards her mouth. Placing a small kiss to Sherlock's palm, and leaving him rather bewildered, Molly moved away from the kitchen table and into the living room to sit down on the sofa. “Any cases?” 

 

“Not now, no. There's something more _pressing_ to see to.” Sherlock replied as he tapped on his phone. Molly knew he was sending a text, to whom though, she didn't know. He placed his phone in his pocket and looked at the woman curled up on the sofa. “Prove it.”

 

“What?” Molly replied in her typical surprised tone. 

 

“Prove that there isn't something bothering you. I know what you're thinking, so sorry to disappoint you.”

 

“What _was_ I thinking, Sherlock?” 

 

“'You can just work it out by looking at me'. Sorry, but with your problems I unable to read them off you like I can with everyone else. That's why I've been asking you, and have now asked you to prove it to me. So, go ahead.” Sherlock said opening his arms out and then folding them tightly across his chest. He leant back against the wall and watched as Molly started to approach him from the sofa, slowly in fact. _Teasing me, are we?_

 

“There is _nothing_ bothering me.” Molly replied looking up at the man through her eyelashes and biting her bottom lip slightly. She _then_ went on to lick it slowly, moving even closer to the detective. 

 

“Show. Me.” Sherlock growled as Molly moved herself inches from his body. 

 

“If that's what you want.” Molly whispered, pouncing on the man. Before Sherlock could register anything; Molly's lips were on his in a frenzy of hot, passionate kisses. When his mind caught up, he started to kiss her back, placing his hands firmly on her hips. Molly's hands were wound tightly in the dark curls as she moved herself up so that _she_ had the better angle. Sherlock, on the other hand, wanted to be in control. Using Molly's hips; Sherlock switched their positions so that Molly was now pressed against the wall with her hands grasped firmly above her head. “That's cheating...” Molly mumbled staring up at the ceiling. This gave Sherlock the _perfect opportunity_ to attack Molly's neck. He started with slow kisses along her jaw until he found her pulse point. Here he grazed the point with his teeth and started to use his tongue. He sucked the flesh there into his mouth and bit, rather hard, causing Molly to squirm in his grip. He sucked the flesh once more and made sure that the nibbling could be felt. When he heard her start to giggle, he looked up to see a pair of eyes looking at him intently. 

 

“You're not supposed to laugh.” Sherlock moaned with a slight pout on her lips. 

 

“Sorry.” Molly giggled. “You _were_ tickling me though, Sherlock.” 

 

“You're _mine_ now.” Sherlock whispered into Molly's ear, stroking the area on which he'd just marked. He'd never given a 'Love Bite' to anyone before, so made sure that this one was convincing enough for the World. He knew that she'd a deep bruise on the left side of her neck, so why not give her another one? Sherlock moved onto the right side of Molly's neck and found her pulse point there as well. He repeated his actions from before, this time making sure that Molly squirmed due to the force of his bites. To finish off, Sherlock liked a trail up the length of Molly's neck and along her jaw to join again with her mouth in deep and fiery kisses. After a while, Sherlock's grip loosened allowing Molly to get her hands free from the detective's control and tighten them in the curls of his hair. Taking his bottom lip in her mouth, Molly pulled Sherlock back by his hair so she could see him. She dug her teeth in deeper and eventually tasted blood in her mouth. “I'd rather like _my_ lip back, please.” Sherlock managed to say, “Unless you have some strange kink for your partner's blood, I think that you would like to give my lip back as well.” Molly let Sherlock's lip go and moved a curl out of his face. 

 

“Has anyone ever told you how perfect you look?” Molly whispered as she slipped past the detective and sat back down on the sofa. 

 

“No. Never.” Came the almost silent reply, the person whom had made it sat down next to Molly. 

 

“ _Really_?” 

 

“I've never heard _those_ words told to me before. It's usually more along the lines of 'freak', 'psycho', 'asshole' and any other _imaginative_ words people can come up with in an attempt to insult me.” Molly took Sherlock's hand in hers once more and pressed kisses to his palm and wrist. 

 

“John hasn't called you any of those, has he? I know that he was _pretty_ wound up when you saw each other for the first time after your... Fall.” 

 

“No. He had always gone along the lines of 'machine', 'bastard' and 'moron'.” Both Sherlock chuckled slightly to themselves before Sherlock looked stared at the wall for a few moments. “You've _never_ called me anything. Even these so called 'pet names' that couples are supposed to use. Why?” 

 

Molly blushed to herself before replying, “You know why.”

 

“I don't know, Molly. There's only one thing in the World that I don't understand any more, and that's _you_.” Sherlock took Molly's hand in his and pressed soft kisses to each of her knuckles. He continued to hold tight as though he wasn't sure if Molly was _really_ there with him, or whether their _whole_ relationship had been a dream. A dream to help him sleep through the years without any one of the people he loved. “I've known you for _so_ many years, and yet I feel as though I don't know you at all.” 

 

“Would you like me to show you why I have _never_ called you anything so _dreadful_?” Molly asked practically purring to the man. Faster than Sherlock had seen Molly move, he was now been straddled by the Pathologist and pushed against the sofa. He let his hands find their way to Molly's hips before Molly started her torture. Nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck, Molly places her lips to the taut cable of tendon at Sherlock's neck, causing Sherlock to shudder slightly. _Oh god_. Sherlock thought to himself. Nipping lightly, Molly can't help but giggle when she receives a deep moan from inside Sherlock's chest. 

 

While Molly's attack on his neck continues, now licking up along his jaw with the tip of her tongue, Sherlock threads his hand through Molly's hair, now realising that it's not down. Pulling out Molly's hair bubble, Sherlock replaces his hand in the gorgeous hair, that he can't resist any more, that belonged to _his_ girlfriend. 

 

Sherlock's patience wears thin as Molly's mouth is focused in pressing kisses along his jaw now. Using the fine hair at the top of Molly's neck, Sherlock brings their lips together and covers Molly's surprised gasp. She knew that Sherlock had a talented tongue, but Molly was deeply surprised when it slipped past her lips and into her mouth. Both of them melt into the kiss, Sherlock not even noticing the text that he's just received, until Molly slips her hands into Sherlock's pockets and pulls away. She's pleased to hear the moan that leaves Sherlock's mouth when she pulls away. 

 

“We can continue this later, Sherlock. For _now_ though, I've got some work to go and do.” Molly slides off of Sherlock's lap and makes her way into the bathroom. 

 

“You'll be the death of me, Miss Hooper.” Sherlock shouts as the door shuts. 

 

 _I hope he doesn't notice_ Molly thought to herself before sitting down on the toilet, with the lid down. She quickly turned Sherlock's phone in her hands before clicking so the screen lights up. There was a message displayed from Mycroft on the screen. _Mycroft. So that's who he was texting earlier_. Taking her no less than twenty seconds to guess Sherlock's password, surprisingly easy for someone like him, Molly soon brought up the messages that were being sent to and from Sherlock's brother. 

 

 _'Molly has left for her day at work. Please update me on any advances on the appointment that she thinks I don't know about. Much appreciated, brother. -SH'_ 08:07

 

“He's been checking up on me?” Molly whispered to the room, then remembering that Sherlock could hear anything she said out loud. 

 

 **'Of course, Sherlock. -MH'** 08:10

 

 **'Miss Hooper had just left the appointment, Sherlock. I'll get the results for you. It was _definitely_ too long an appointment for it to be _just_ a check-up. -MH' **09:17

 

 _'Thank you, Mycroft. -SH'_ 09:19

 

 _'Come along; you should have the results by now! -SH'_ 12:34

 

 **'I don't know how to tell you this, Sherlock. I'm sure that is does not affect you as much as it does Miss Hooper. Are you sure that you're ready to hear it? And from me instead of her? -MH'** 12:37

 

 _'Molly has been keeping things from me. Who's to say she won't keep_ this _from me as well, Mycroft. Please, tell me... -SH'_ 12:38

 

 **'Miss Hooper, much to her distress, has PCOS- Polycystic Ovary Syndrome- It's the most common cause of ovulation problems in women. I'm sorry, Sherlock. -MH'** 12:41

 

 _'What? -SH'_ 12:45

 

 **'It means that Miss Hooper cannot have children of her own, Sherlock. -MH'** 12:47

 

 _'I know what infertility means,_ Mycroft _. Will she have to have an operation? -SH'_ 12:49

 

 **'I really don't think that _we_ should be discussing this any more, Sherlock. You and Miss Hooper need to talk about it together. She has returned back to her work once again, brother. Let me know what she informs you when she returns. -MH' **12:52

 

 _'I- Thank you for your help, Mycroft. It is rare that you help me in such a way, so I am grateful for what you've done. I will update you later. -SH'_ 12:54

 

Molly had been crying for the moment that she knew where _this_ was going. She didn't want to tell Sherlock until _she_ was ready, seems that he had other plans. There were four more messages to read, all concerning Molly. 

 

 _'Molly has returned and is now on her third cup of tea. Is this a point in which I should intervene? -SH'_ 19:23

 

 **'Sherlock, juts leave her and ask at an appropriate time. I doubt that she'll tell you that anything is wrong, any way. -MH'** 19:26

 

 _'You were right, Mycroft. Molly won't tell me what's 'bothering' her. I'll just pretend I don't know anything. -SH'_ 20:17

 

 **'Be careful with her, Sherlock. She _has_ just found out that she can't have a family with you. I think it would be best if you let _her_ decide the point at which she wishes to tell you about her condition. I am happy to continue with any updates in the future, if you need them. -MH' **20:31

 

Molly let the phone drop to the floor, hoping that it wouldn't break, and hiding her face in her hands. She didn't want _this_ to be the way that Sherlock found out he couldn't have a 'proper' family with her. For the next half an hour, Molly sat in the bathroom, cowering away from her boyfriend and crying into her hands. She sniffed out of shock when Sherlock knocked on the door. She obviously didn't hear him because it seemed that he was, almost, _desperate_ for her to come out. 

 

“Molly. Come on out. You've been in there for half an hour and I want to finish what we left off.” Sherlock whined through the door, tapping slightly on it with his fingers. The sound was on the lower part of the door, he was sitting beside it then. 

 

“Erm... I'll be right out!” Molly replied, using a piece of toilet roll to wipe her eyes. Making sure that her skin and eyes didn't look to blotchy, Molly made her way out of the bathroom to find Sherlock lying on the sofa. Taking the kitchen route, and placing Sherlock's phone on the table next to his microscope, Molly stood in front of Sherlock and sighed. “Before we continue, do you still think that there's something wrong?” Molly needed to get those words out of her system. 

 

“No-pe. I just want to ravish you now, if that's okay?” Sherlock _still_ asking for permission would never be dropped by Molly. After Sherlock moved, Molly lay down upon the sofa and let Sherlock do just what he'd asked. Her mind never stopped thinking about what she'd read though. She would just have to continue acting as though she didn't know until Sherlock admitted that he'd gotten Mycroft to _spy_ on her. Either that or she'd have to wait until she snapped. The latter being the more likely result, Molly let her mind rest while Sherlock attended to her. 

 

Sherlock _did_ know why Molly was whimpering in the toilet for so long. She'd stolen his phone, not too hard to notice, and had read the messages. He hadn't wanted it to be this way, but he would wait until _Molly_ was ready to discuss her 'condition' as Mycroft put it. Sherlock had to wait; molly had waited for him after all. Twenty years she waited, it shouldn't be too hard for him to wait. Or would it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading; I hope that this chapter wasn't too... I don't know. 
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Eating Ice Cream. Yummy! :P


	13. Eating Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly have avoided the discussion that they desperately need to have with one another and are taking a walk through the park. Molly wants ice cream, the best ice cream in the World she thinks, and so she goes and buys some. The woman inside the shop is a lot like Sherlock; knowing about Molly's condition, being like that herself, and giving her thoughts on the way she thinks Sherlock should be told the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again. Right, it just took me three attempts to type 'again'... Never mind.
> 
> Here's the next chapter, day thirteen. Oh my, a whole two weeks... Almost. And what have I discovered? That I would probably be better not writing this at all. 
> 
> Any way, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. :)

_ **Eating Ice Cream** _

 

Neither Molly or Sherlock had spoke to each other about the information they knew. Sherlock had stopped using Mycroft's services to spy on Molly as she knew what he was doing, even if he was doing it for her own good. This particular spring day, Sherlock and Molly were walking through the park when Molly spotted something that she'd never seen before on the corner of that _particular_ street. 

 

“ _Sherlock..._ ” Molly whined, gripping tighter onto Sherlock's hand in order to alert him of what she wanted. “Can we _please_ go and get some ice cream? _Please_.” Sherlock rolled his eyes playfully and nodded. He hadn't anticipated Molly _dragging_ him by his arm to the Ice Cream Parlour!

 

“Hello, sir. Madam. What can I get you both today?” There was a sweet looking, old lady standing behind the counter ready with her equipment and a smile plastered all the way around her face...?! 

 

“Hello.” Molly replied looking at the assortment of flavours in front of her. Sherlock started to tap his foot, _impatient are we,_ causing Molly to pick the Mango and Passion fruit sorbet. She'd always _loved_ that flavour. The woman put two scoops of the sorbet into a tub and handed it to Molly. “Thank you.”

 

“That'll be two pounds, love.” Molly looked blankly at the woman before checking the prices. 

 

“But it says up there that it's two pounds eighty.” Sherlock was now _bored_ out of his mind, so he went outside, took his coat off and sat on the coast on the grass. “Surely, I can't have a discount.” 

 

“I think you deserve a discount, dear. Does _he_ know?” The woman asked before looking down and scooping two chocolate scoops into a cup and handing it to Molly. The woman laughed slightly as she saw Molly's baffled face before her. “It's okay you know, dear. I think that you should wait to tell him at the perfect time.” 

 

“Excuse me?” Was all that Molly could manage to reply to the woman before looking down at the change she had. She handed four pounds to the woman and smiled slightly. 

 

“You can't have children, can you?” Molly's eyes dropped to the ice cream as she shook her head slightly. “He doesn't know, either.” Molly shook her head once more. “I'm sure he'll understand when you tell him. My husband was fine when I told him about myself.” 

 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that- I mean, about your-erm...”

 

“It's quite alright, dear. I'm sorry that I blurted out what I can see in so many women that come in here. None of them brave enough to tell their other half. You're different though.” The woman smiled at Molly and took off her gloves. 

 

“How am I different to all the others? I'm just like them all. Unable to have children and too disappointed in my fate to tell Sherlock because I know how _badly_ he'll react.” Molly sniffed slightly and looked up to see the woman's warm smile. She smiled back. 

 

“I thought I recognised you both. Sherlock Holmes, the detective whom returned from the dead and his girlfriend, Doctor Molly Hooper.” Molly nodded and took a lick of her ice cream. 

 

“This is _gorgeous_ by the way.” The woman nodded at Sherlock and looked back to Molly. 

 

“He's already figured it out, hasn't he?” Molly nodded once more and took a big lick of her ice cream this time. _Comfort food, Molly._ “Don't worry, dear. Everything will be _fine_. Even if you're dating the World's only Consulting Detective.” Molly felt the woman place her hand onto her shoulder before she disappeared behind the counter once more. 

 

“T-thank you. Thank you for the ice cream and the talk. I've wanted to tell someone, just not _him_.” 

 

“No problem, dear. Now. Go and have fun!” Molly smiled one more time before she left through the door and joined Sherlock on his coat. 

 

“I didn't want any ice cream, Molly.” Sherlock scowled as he saw the extra tub of ice cream in Molly's hand. “What took you so long, any way? You were in there a long time. I thought you might have made a friend in that woman.” Molly nodded slightly before she started to dive into her ice cream. 

 

“She, erm, gave me some useful advice.” Molly replied taking another spoonful into her mouth and moaning slightly. _That_ caught Sherlock off guard. He turned to see Molly sucking the ice cream off the spoon so _slowly_ that it was almost painful for him to watch. Taking another spoonful and placing it to her lips, Molly moaned once more, this time a little louder and more seductive, before she pulled the spoon in and out of her mouth. Sherlock hadn't realised he'd been staring until he felt a familiar twinge in his abdomen. 

 

“ _Molly_ ,” Sherlock hissed, “please _stop_ doing that. We're in public!” 

 

Molly turned to look at her boyfriend. “Doing _what_ , Sherlock. I'm not doing anything.” Molly's face was so neutral that she looked almost convincingly innocent. “What?” Molly asked once more before placing another spoonful in her mouth and sucking it off as slow as she could. _You know exactly what you're doing, Molly._ She thought to herself. 

 

“ _That_!” Sherlock hissed once more. 

 

“What? I'm sitting outside an ice cream shop and eating my ice cream. You could have yours, if you want!” Molly teased now knowing what she was doing to Sherlock. She could see the evidence as clear as day, especially now since Sherlock was using his scarf ad 'cover' for what was forming. Molly couldn't help but giggle when Sherlock's eyes squinted at her accusingly. 

 

“Am I right in thinking that the ice cream must be _delicious_.” Molly nodded and placed another spoonful on her tongue, wiping it along her lip immediately. “Can I have a taste, maybe?” Sherlock moved closer and licked the ice cream from Molly's lips. “Mmm.” Sherlock hummed in agreement. “I think I'd rather like to try my ice cream if that's okay with you?” Molly handed Sherlock the tub, but nothing could have prepared her for the sound that she heard come from the detective's mouth. If she thought that she was moaning, then she could not think that any longer. Her moan was erotic to Sherlock's ear, but to Molly Sherlock's moan was almost pornographic. What was he trying to prove?

 

“I'm guessing that you like it then?” Molly purred before scooping some of Sherlock's ice cream onto his nose and licking it off. “Mmm. Yours is _delicious_ , but mine is better!” Molly moaned once more and Sherlock put down his ice cream. “Sherlock, where are you going?” 

 

Sherlock replied to her whilst pulling his coat around the apparent excitement that had formed in his trousers, “You and I, Molly, are going back to the flat. Right now.” Molly swore that Sherlock growled at her before helping her up and dragging up to the flat. 

 

“Good plan.” Molly chuckled before ducking inside the shop once more, thanking the lady and taking a punnet of sorbet to go. This _would_ be interesting. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading another day in this chapter. I hope that you're enjoying our little adventure through Sherlock and Molly's relationship... No? That's fine as well.
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Genderswap


	14. Genderswapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock decides to experiment... How could it possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. 
> 
> Wow. It's getting cold here in England. Personally, I'm not cold. Everyone else is, though. Shame... :P I'm immune to the cold! 
> 
> Any way. I hope that you enjoy this. I thought it'd be nice for Sherlock and Molly to choose their names, considering they won't be able to do that in the future... Oh well. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

_ **Gender swapped** _

 

It all started with one cup of coffee and two words. 

 

“What's this?” Molly asked as she held the coffee in her hands. 

 

“Coffee. I made coffee.” Sherlock frowned slightly as he sat down in the chair opposite Molly. He saw that she was reading _again. Probably cleaning her mind before she_ eventually _tells me about her condition._ Sherlock thought to himself as he noticed Molly sniffing the liquid. 

 

“Ha.” Molly replied sarcastically, “Even though _we_ have an arrangement, you still _never_ make coffee!” She sniffed the coffee once more and raised it to eyes level. 

 

“I just did, don't you want it?!” Sherlock snapped back at her almost violent in his tone. Molly had heard these _exact_ words before, only from the mouth of another. John had told her about all of the cases that he and Sherlock had done together. Baskerville was _always_ her favourite of the lot because it was it was creepy as well as, in all honesty, genius. 

 

“Alright. I'll have it.” Molly hissed back at the man, studying his face as he smiled slightly. He then went on to study her as she took a drink from it. She could only manage a mouthful of it though because there was an _awful_ taste. “ _What_ have you put in here, Sherlock?” Molly saw the detective smile slightly. “Seriously. Do I need to go to hospital because of what you've put in my cup! God, Sherlock!” 

 

“It's not toxic, Molly, I can promise you that. _But_ -”

 

“But?” Molly shouted to the man, walking to the kitchen table and placing the mug of whatever _it_ was down upon it. She returned and picked up her book, suddenly feeling _very_ light headed. 

 

“It's not _exactly_... Finished, per say. You might want to go and lay down, Molly, because the side effects will start to, well, kick in soon.” Sherlock stood and walked towards the mug, picking it up, taking a sip and following Molly into the bedroom he continued, “The side effects won't be too _severe_ , just so you know.” 

 

“Good.” Molly mumbled into her pillow, making sure that she promised herself to only have thirty minutes or so of sleep in order to get back to her book. 

 

Molly awoke when something started to prod her in the back. _Sherlock_. She rolled over to find her chest flat and Sherlock's now with a pair of breasts. Molly had to double take making sure that she was _really_ seeing this. Looking down, she could see that she _definitely_ was a man now. What had happened to them both? 

 

“Sherlock.” Molly poked Sherlock on the arm, not recognising the sound that left her mouth, and then pulled his- _her_ hair slightly to wake her up. When her eyes fluttered open, Molly gave her a deep and threatening stare. “ _You_ have _a lot_ of explaining to do, Sherlock.” When Sherlock looked down she chuckled slightly, causing Molly to gasp. “What are you chuckling at?” He asked in his new deep, _baritone_ voice. Molly's voice was just like Sherlock's had been before _this_ happened. 

 

“Not to fear, Molly. It'll only last a couple of days at most.” Sherlock, or whatever her name was now, continued to flutter her eyelids in order to gain Molly's attention. “We probably shouldn't call each other Sherlock and Molly any more because neither of us are ourselves, as you can see.” Sherlock said gesturing towards the new pair of breasts on her chest. “I think I'd like to call you Mathew, just like the day we wore each others' clothes. What do you think, _Mathew_?” Sherlock was now sitting up right and attempting to get off the bed. “I think it suits you, don't you.” Molly scowled before going into the living room and picking up his laptop. “What are you doing?”

 

“ _I_ am looking up a name for myself. You can do the same for yourself in a minute.” Sherlock rolled her eyes at her boyfriend before standing above the chair and wrapping her long, slender arms around Molly's shoulders. “You can still help if you want.” Molly clarified before placing a kiss on Sherlock's cheek and turning back to the screen. “Here we go. How about... Memphis?”

 

“ _Memphis_? Seriously, Molly. Are you _trying_ to get yourself picked on? No, try another name.”

 

“ _Fine_. I don't see why you had to use the big explanation though, Sherlock.” Molly moved the list down to look for another name that Sherlock might _actually_ like. “Hmm... Mika?”

 

“No.”

 

“Mike?”

 

“No. I would think about Mike Stamford during sex, and that it _not_ good!” Sherlock hissed to her boyfriend. 

 

“Sherlock!” Molly slapped Sherlock lightly on the shoulder and continued his search. “How about Mickey?” 

 

“Hmm...” Sherlock thought for a minute or so before replying with a pop, “No-pe.” Molly rolled his eyes and looked at the screen once more. “How about Miles, Molly?” Both of them looked at each other and gave a curt nod before Molly- _Miles_ typed into Google ' _Girls names beginning with S'._ He watched the screen as Sherlock scowled behind him. “What? You need to have a name that started with S, just like I have to have one with M. We're still the same people, you know.” 

 

“Except for the fact that I used a liquid to change our gender while we had a nap.” Sherlock replied sarcastically and sighed when she got the eyebrows raised at her. “My turn, I suppose. Here-” She pointed to the screen, “Sam?”

 

“No, Sherlock. You need a name that's _interesting_ and also... I don't think that you're ' _the name of God, asked for_ or _a listener'_ ” Miles replied and scrolled the screen down further. He started to mutter names under his breath in order to see how they fit Sherlock's unusual name persona. “This one?” 

 

“Sarah-Jane? Miles, that's not _interesting_ like _my_ name.” Sherlock replied to the option in an almost sulking way. This was just like picking baby names, he would never get to do this with Miles-Molly when they returned to normal. _Especially_ if she kept it a secret for much longer. 

 

“I know. She was one of my favourite companions from Doctor Who, sorry.” Miles scrolled down the screen once more before he found the perfect name that not only suited Sherlock, but also hit the unusual name box. “Here you go. The perfect name.” 

 

Sherlock read it from the screen, “Sopheyah. Hmm...” Miles looked up hesitantly. He knew that it didn't unusual like Sherlock and Mycroft's names, _but_ the spelling is what caught Miles' eyes. 

 

“Do you like it?” Sopheyah's answer came as a kiss to Miles' lips. She was _obviously_ happy with the name that Miles chose because now her lips wouldn't leave his. Eventually he had to push Sopheyah off from him and grab Sopheyah's coat and shoes. “Is it okay if I borrow these?” He asked her politely. Miles was still the same on the inside as he was when he was Molly. Sopheyah nodded. 

 

“Why _do_ you need them?” Sopheyah asked from the chair, she'd curled up on herself and was now clutching her knees to her chest. Considering she was now a woman and Miles had grown with his change, Sopheyah seemed to still be as lanky as she was when she was Sherlock. 

 

“I'm going out, if that's okay with you, Sopheyah. I-I need to visit a friend and surprise her.” Miles told his girlfriend slipping the dark blue scarf around his neck. Now he smelt like Sherlock and he _loved_ it. He went to move his hair out of the way when he realised that it had changed; because he was a man now. He ran to the bathroom and screamed, as best as he could, causing Sopheyah to follow him. 

 

“What's happened?” Sopheyah groaned as she too walked in and saw the hair that she'd been saddled with. “ _What_ is this?” Pulling at the strands of hair that hung around her face, Sopheyah watched as Miles fiddled with his hair. “I have hair that is curly, like my old hair of course, but _still_ manages to reach the top of my bum. How long can it get?!” Miles couldn't hold back his laughter any more. As much as he loved Sopheyah, she could really be the stupidest person around, even with her _massive_ brain of hers. “I don't know what you're smirking at!” 

 

“I'm all fine with my hair, Sopheyah. Now that I think about it, I _kind_ of look like Niall Horan from One Direction, except with my auburn hair instead.” Miles watched as Sopheyah's jaw dropped as far as it could go. “Oh, I don't like them by the way. I just know their names. That's perfectly okay, isn't it?” Miles received a shake of the head, so he left the room. 

 

“Miles. Where _are_ you actually going?” Sopheyah begged as she walked after Miles down the stairs. 

 

“Out. Erm... I-I need some air. I'll be back soon.” Placing a chaste kiss to Sopheyah's lips, Miles flew out of the door and into the streets leaving Sopheyah alone to do what she wanted to. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

' _You do realise that you're wearing women's clothes, right? And you're out in London wearing_ my _coat and scarf! -SH'_

 

**'Don't forget the shoes, Sopheyah. Oh, god. I totally forgot that I was wearing them... They're really baggy around my chest, actually. It's rather off putting. Are you going to change into some of my clothes? -Miles'**

 

_'Already have. ;) -SH'_

 

A picture message arrived on Miles' phone with a buzz. He opened it quickly and saw Sopheyah dressed in Miles' _best_ dress. Sherlock had never seen Molly in it before, though. She was saving it for a special day. 

 

**'Wow. I _was_ planning on saving that dress for a special day, but I suppose you rock it better than I do. -Miles'**

 

_**'** _ **And since when do** **_you_ send emoticons? I thought you said they were 'childish' and 'pathetic', just like everything else that I do? -Miles'**

 

 _'It is a teasing face and I was teasing you by wearing your dress. Do you want to see what's under the dress? I'd_ love _to see what's under_ your _clothes, Mr Hooper. -SH'_

 

**'Miss Holmes, I thought you'd never ask. :P -Miles'**

 

Miles made his way back to the flat quickly and made sure that he used the time that Sopheyah was Sopheyah wisely. Soon they would _hopefully_ be back to their usual selves. 

 

Molly hiding her secret from someone who only wants to hear it from her own mouth. Sherlock still not intending on bringing the conversation up himself. Neither of them wanted the conversation because they knew the other would be angry at them for one reason or another. What they did know is that it needed to come out soon, especially since Sherlock had hidden a small velvet inside his sock index the other day. What would happen if _this_ stopped _that_? He didn't want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope that this isn't such a big OCC fanfiction... But I love Sherlock this way...!


	15. Wearing a different style of clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly has gone into 'mourning', and Sherlock knows exactly why, of course. Molly's new wardrobe is full of black and purple visual kei clothes. Sherlock loves them, not that he'll tell Molly to her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone. 
> 
> I think Danisnotonfire understands me most in this World. Everyone thinks I'm posh and it's really frustrating, if I'm honest. 
> 
> Any way, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Sorry about the length...

_ **Wearing Visual Kei** _

 

 

Molly hadn't meant for it to happen, but she was currently in a stage of mourning, almost. Her clothes had become a lot darker and her style Gothic. She had to admit it to herself, that she was now spending _way_ too much money on 'Visual Kei', as they called it, because everything in her wardrobe that she would wear was black or purple, or made of leather. 

 

“Who died?” Sherlock asked his girlfriend sarcastically as she entered the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Today she'd chosen to wear a black and purple Komono dress that she knew Sherlock always 'eyed' her in. Her knee length black socks and think heels helped to raise Molly slightly in her looks as well as her actual height. Today Molly had also chosen to _liven_ up her looks by applying thick lines of eye liner along her eyelids. Sherlock couldn't deny it any more; he _definitely_ preferred this look on Molly. When he received a glare from the woman who remained standing at the kettle, he quickly added, “I simply wish to know whom has caused you to turn into Dracula's wife these past few weeks. Is that so hard to believe?” Molly sighed, deeply, and sat down on the table. 

 

“I don't know, Sherlock. I think that there's something that I should tell the World, but I want to keep it to myself so that nobody gets hurt. It's just eating me up now...” Molly dropped her head to the table, ignoring the pain from the hit, and sighed even louder. 

 

“Well, that does come with keeping important information from people?” Sherlock mumbled to himself before getting up and making a coffee for both himself and Molly. 

 

“What did you say?” Molly questioned quickly, lifting her head from the table to look at Sherlock, who gave her a quick shrug of the shoulders, before replacing her head to the table. “Also. I know how much _you_ like this particular dress on me, Sherlock.” Molly chuckled slightly as she heard Sherlock shakily replace the kettle onto its stand. _Haha_ Molly celebrated to herself. When Sherlock sat himself down again with two mugs of coffee he heard a faint ' _thank you'_ before Molly lifted her head once more. 

 

“Molly,” Sherlock asked gripping his mug tightly in his hands, “I remember you telling me that if I _ever_ hurt you that you'll leave me.” 

 

“ _Yes_ , and you said that you'd die before you hurt me. What's your point?” Molly asked harshly before taking a big sip from her mug, burning her tongue in the process. Sherlock couldn't help but smirk slightly at Molly's lack of consideration before she took a big gulp from her mug. 

 

“I was wondering whether that point would stand for you on my part, as well?” Sherlock was staring at Molly now with his serious eyes. He usually brought them out when he was telling her that he loved her or when he was solving a particularly pressing case. 

 

“Are you saying that if I ever hurt _you_ that you'll leave _me_?” Molly asked with a hint of surprise, hidden in plain sight, in her voice. Sherlock nodded his head briefly before taking a gulp of his coffee. He had to admit that he _loved_ that coffees that he made for himself. They were always the best! “Well, then I say that _I'll_ die before I allow myself to hurt you.” Molly smiled before turning away slightly and whispering to herself, “Not that _you'd_ care if I hurt you, of course.” When she turned back, she didn't expect the sight that was before her. Sherlock was sitting with his head in his hands, eyes squeezed tightly shut and hands raking through his thick curls. “Are you okay?” Molly asked placing her hand on Sherlock's shoulder, it being shifted almost immediately. 

 

“I'm fine, Molly. I do love that dress by the way!” Sherlock replied standing behind her and pulling her hair out of the way of her neck. He placed a few kisses there before mumbling against her skin, “Can you show me all the other clothes you know _I love_?” Molly nodded before standing, placing a kiss on Sherlock's cheek, and retreating to the safety of their room. _He was trying to hint, Molly. You've hurt him!_ She thought to herself before shedding the dress. 

 

Molly returned four minutes later wearing a black and purple punk rock sweet dress. She'd kept her knee length socks on to keep the darkness on her pale skin. Sherlock made his way towards her and hooked a finger through the collar around Molly's throat. Pulling Molly flush with his body, he kissed her soundly and then pulled away to study how she looked. 

 

“I hope that this _mourning session_ of yours ends soon, Molly.” Sherlock heard a sigh escape Molly's mouth before he added, “Not that I don't like this period in you life, but I prefer my usual happy girlfriend from before.” Molly smiled at the man before he started to walk away. Picking up his violin and flashing Molly a quick wink he decided that his next statement was necessary, “Although, now I think about it, you're _much_ better looking _without_ any clothes on-ow!” Molly threw a book at Sherlock's back because he _still_ didn't understand the concept of information that doesn't need to be said. She loved him for it though, and that's all that counted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed that short chapter. I had no idea how to make this one longer, so... I was on the bus home from school today trying to explain my ideas about my future chapters to my friend. Let's just say; I don't think she likes it... Stuff you!
> 
> Here's the second outfit Molly was wearing: http://thumbs4.ebaystatic.com/d/l225/m/mDXVVXgfLlihOyYTXLfDPXA.jpg
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> During their morning rituals.


	16. During their morning rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly's rituals can change, but usually their the same. Is everything as you expect it to be for the Consulting Detective and the Pathologist?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there again, guys... And girls... And others.
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this... It went slightly off track while I was writing it, though. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_ **During their morning rituals** _

 

Each of Sherlock and Molly's rituals _usually_ started the same each morning. Sometimes they could change due to one of Sherlock's cases, but he would always try and return in order to be there when Molly awoke from her slumber. It was one of his favourite things about her; watching her sleep. She was always so peaceful and tranquil which helped Sherlock himself calm down. 

 

The day would start at six thirty with Sherlock waking Molly with kisses on her lips, eyelids, nose, jaw and neck. He wouldn't stop until Molly woke up and kissed him back. Of course Molly, finding out this information rather early into their bed sharing relationship, decided to play with this knowledge and pretend to be asleep for as long as possible in order to keep Sherlock going. In all honesty, Molly was astounded that Sherlock didn't just deduce that Molly was awake and start to kiss her properly. When rethinking that matter, however, she decided that Sherlock himself was probably playing along with her game in order to convince Molly that she could outsmart him. Which was _not_ the case. 

 

“Hmm.” Molly hummed in approval before attaching her mouth to Sherlock's in slow and precise kisses that she was only rewarded with in the morning when she woke up. Molly _hungered_ for these kisses more often, but she knew that Sherlock was not always so affectionate to everyone. She actually considered herself _lucky_ because even though he knew about her condition, he stuck by her and never left her without explaining his _important_ reasons first with her. “Good morning.” Molly whispered before placing another kiss onto Sherlock's lips. 

 

“Good morning, Molly.” Sherlock would say before placing a chaste kiss onto his girlfriend's lips and rushing into the shower. He knew how long Molly took in the bathroom each morning- thirty four minutes and twenty two seconds exactly- so decided that he would be first in the bathroom in order to get dressed and look presentable before John or Lestrade turned up with something _interesting_ for him. Sherlock would only take two minutes and ten seconds in the shower to wash himself completely. He would then proceed to clean his teeth and dry his hair, with a towel on its own by the way, and then leave the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He would then get dressed in his tight shirts and leave the room to smell breakfast being made in the kitchen. 

 

While Sherlock was in the bathroom for no more than ten minutes, Molly made her way out of bed and into the kitchen to make breakfast that Sherlock would actually eat. Today's choice was pancakes and strawberries, just as Molly like them. Every morning she would hum along to her iPod as she danced around the kitchen. This morning's choice was 'Mr Blue Sky' by E.L.O. Personally, Molly didn't care what people thought of her musical choice because _she_ liked it and that's what made _her_ happy. Not that she would admit it to anyone, but Molly _loved_ this song with all her heart _and_ she was actually pretty good at singing. All the better when you have a grumpy boyfriend flat mate that could pop up and insult you at any moment. Next, Molly would put on the kettle and make two cups of coffee, just how each of them liked it, just in time for Sherlock to walk into the kitchen. Molly had gotten very good at time keeping since living with Sherlock. She would now know when he would do everything in the morning at the exact times. 

 

Sherlock would greet Molly with a kiss and an arm snaked around her waist. He would take his coffee from the side and place himself at the table _eagerly_ awaiting his breakfast. Molly would make him eat every last piece of his meals otherwise she would not talk to or look at Sherlock for a whole twenty-four hours- Sherlock had learnt that the hard way, of course. When the plate was place in front of Sherlock, he would smell the meal thoroughly and remark, “Molly, this smells _delicious_.” When Molly would turn around to look at him, Sherlock would usually have his mouth _full_ of food. She was glad that she could get him to eat, even if it did mean blackmail, and then continued to admire him until she was brought back to reality by the sound of her name. Molly never realised that she would stare at Sherlock for so long that it would make Sherlock _uncomfortable_. 

 

“Sorry, Sherlock.” Molly would apologise before placing herself next to Sherlock at the table and beginning to devour her breakfast. She would keep one headphone in so that she could easily block herself from any snide comments that Sherlock decided it was necessary to make. Blondie's 'Call Me' usually being first on the list if that _did_ happen, which was _rare_. 

 

“Do you like what you see?” Sherlock would ask when he found Molly staring at him again. At this point he would be wearing his smug smirk that usually came with that question no matter when he asked it. Molly would only smile before slipping back into her dream world. 

 

Sherlock would then clear away the dished and place himself either on the sofa in his thinking position, hands pressed together under his chin and his eyes closed, or pick up his violin and start to play a song that he had wrote for Molly a few months ago. He hadn't told her that matter, but he planned on telling her soon-ish. 

 

Molly would down the rest of her coffee and make her way into the bathroom where she would shower, sing and do the little make up that she wore. She would take so long in the shower, recently _especially_ due to her every thought being about her relationship with Sherlock, because she needed to think privately without Sherlock trying to read her mind every second. Molly would then leave to get dressed in the room where she would be _rudely_ interrupted by Sherlock trying to improve his vampire skills by biting her neck _several_ times. Molly would then have to pick a different outfit, in order to hide the marks, which usually involved a dress scarf. 

 

Most days Molly went to work at eight in the morning, and others she would stay at the flat and watch a movie wrapped up in a blanket. Unless it was too hot, of course. If Molly did watch a movie, Sherlock would join her and wrap her in his embrace. Each and every day his _'secret'_ mission was to try and coax Molly into opening up about her infertility. Molly knew this and didn't want to act upon it, on the other hand, she wanted to see how he would react to every detail about it. Sherlock would make Molly coffee and give her biscuits, made by Mrs Hudson _obviously_ , “ _Obviously..._ ”, and sometimes help her with any extra work she would bring home. This act _always_ came with a, “I _can_ do my job myself, Sherlock.” which would end up in Sherlock sulking back into his chair and adding any new experiences to Molly's room in the Mind Palace. 

 

And that was _just_ the mornings. This would happen every day unless wither of them had work, which could leave the other alone to their thoughts. Even though Molly _loved_ Sherlock, she couldn't wait until he had a case and she was left to her own devices. Sherlock was becoming more like a lost puppy than a human being. Following Molly's every move when she was in the flat, and sometimes out, not that Sherlock knew Molly could see him in the reflection of shop windows as he followed her. 

 

All they could say was that they _were_ happy about _most_ things. The one truth still needing to come out so that their relationship could go on truthfully, or it could end. Neither wanted the latter, but as time continued to tick, both Sherlock and Molly started to wonder whether _this_ situation was going to tear them apart completely. Only time would tell though, Sherlock wanting Molly to be the first to speak and Molly wanting Sherlock to tell the truth to her about _why_ he'd spying on her in the first place. Overall Molly decided that she probably would have told Sherlock now if she hadn't have read his messages. _Big mistake, Molly_ she would curse herself everyday; drifting further into the abyss that Sherlock would finally close, trapping her inside for eternity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Spooning


	17. Spooning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly have a heart-to-heart whilst they spoon each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! :)
> 
> Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

_ **Spooning** _

 

It was a warm Saturday morning in 221B; allowing Sherlock and Molly to continue their sleeping habits as they wished to. Molly, however, was awoken by the feel of two arms wrapping themselves _tightly_ around her waist and a leg entwining with hers. This being a new experience for Molly, she let out a small squeak of surprise at the sound of the man behind her breathing her smell. Sherlock was never really one for cuddling, but this morning he decided that it could be one of his tactics for getting Molly to 'spill the beans', as they say. 

 

Sherlock loved Molly's smell. Every morning he would wake up to the aroma of lemon or strawberry, depending on what shampoo Molly decided to use the day before, and the sight of Molly's long auburn hair. No smell excited him more than the bedroom in the morning smell. If they had sex, then it would smell of the adventures that they shared together the night before. If they didn't; Molly's smell would fill the room completely. Sherlock loved both. This morning was a normal morning. Sherlock wanted to breath in Molly so that he would _never_ forget her. 

 

“Sherlock...” Molly hummed before the arms tightened around her waist once more. Sherlock took one last sniff of Molly's hair, before he rested his head on Molly's shoulder and kissed her ear. “What are you doing?” Sherlock's head removed itself from Molly's shoulder in confusion. 

 

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asked as he looked Molly's body up and down. He knew what she meant, but he wanted her to _actually_ tell him something instead of him deducing it out of her. That was _not_ how relationships were supposed to go.

 

“You're never really _this_ affectionate, that's all, Sherlock.” Molly whispered back before pulling her knees into her chest as the arms released her. She suddenly felt strangely alone even though she was still next to Sherlock. On the other side of the bed, Sherlock had also wrapped himself up with his arms in order to shield himself from Molly's honesty. He didn't realise that he could be hurt this much by Molly's honesty. 

 

“I'm sorry if my actions offended you, Molly. Though I thought that the term ' _Spooning_ ' was something that couples usually did together.” At this, Molly turned around and twisted her arms around Sherlock's waist. His was far more bony than Molly's, but she still enjoyed hugging him in this way. 

 

“No, Sherlock. I-I should be sorry. I didn't know that you wanted to be _this_ intimate. Please.” Sherlock growled at Molly's apology, but held her hands still around his waist when she tried to remove herself. Molly pressed kisses to Sherlock's naked shoulder and neck, making sure that she tickled him as she went along. When Molly found Sherlock's sensitive spot behind his ear she was shoved into the shock zone when Sherlock turned around and started to turn her with his legs. She couldn't resist any more, knowing _exactly_ what was coming for her. 

 

Sherlock started to press his lips against every piece of skin that he could manage to find. When he heard Molly moan his arms tightened around her waist and pulled her as close as he could to his chest. 

 

“Exactly the response I was hoping for.” Molly whispered pressing her hand to her eyes in order to clear their hazed state. Sherlock only pressed her closer to him, if that was possible, in order to convince her of the truth. 

 

“Molly.”

 

“Yes, Sherlock?” 

 

“Would you ever keep the truth from me if it happened to be something that could destroy us or make us? I feel as though I wouldn't tell you if I had to leave again; for safety reasons _obviously_ , nor John for that matter. I wouldn't want you to come with me and destroy and hopes of that marriage that I've been planning for twenty years or so.” Sherlock could feel Molly's smile grow all the way to her eyes. “Not that I think you're weak, because you're not; you're fantastically strong and that helps me to admire you each and every day that I see you. It's because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something dreadful like your death happened, Molly. It would be like _I_ had hurt you, instead of the men. I would have to die, and I would happily die.” Sherlock paused to sigh into Molly's shoulder. He could picture Molly's frail and limp body laying in his arms as she lay dead. A bullet through her brain; blood trickling down her temples and cheeks onto his coat. Sherlock shook the image from his mind with a violent shake of his head. Molly felt every emotion, no matter what Sherlock _accused_ emotions of, that came out of Sherlock when he entered the dream World. 

 

“Sherlock,” Molly received a hum from the detective behind her, so she continued, “to answer your question. If I ever felt as though I had to keep something from you then I would do it under my own guidance because I wouldn't want to know how that confession would end.” Sherlock struggled slightly before Molly grabbed his hands and pulled him closer once more. “ _But_ you should know that everything I say or do not say, I do with the _best_ intentions that I could because you deserve nothing less.” She could feel Sherlock's smile grow on her shoulder. 

 

“I-I'm going to g-go and have a shower.” Sherlock said, well stuttered, before placing a chaste kiss onto Molly's cheek and flying out into the bathroom in record speed. “I love you, Molly Hooper.” Sherlock whispered so that she would hear. He heard the reply of 'I love you, too' before he let himself fall down the closed door. When safe inside, as Molly went to make breakfast, Sherlock let the tears fall out of his eyes that he had been holding. Molly had rarely made him cry, but this instance was a well rewarded situation. “ _Best intentions_.” Sherlock repeated to himself as he picked his body up from the floor. 

 

Sherlock now had time to think, one question running through his mind in circles over and over...

 

**Are we living in a lie?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Doing something together


	18. Doing something together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly watch some Doctor Who together to pass the time. What will happen there, then?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Sorry this is almost posted tomorrow... Yes, it's 23:40. Okay. Sorry about that... I'm really tired. School has been exhausting this week.
> 
> I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it any way! :)

_ **Doing something together** _

_ **Watching Doctor Who** _

 

“Oh, Molly. Do we _have_ to?” Sherlock groaned, his head buried into the pillow on the sofa. Every Saturday Molly and Sherlock had taken it in turns to choose what they would do together. This week it was Molly's choice and Sherlock was _not_ happy about what she'd picked! 

 

“It's _only_ a program, Sherlock. Last week we went to the morgue like _you_ wanted to, so that we could do that- whatever _it_ was! This week, we're going to watch this together.” Molly held the box next to the pillow and rattled it rather violently. 

 

“What do I care about Doctor When-”

 

“ _Who_. Sherlock, it's Doctor _Who_. You _should_ care because I _know_ that you like it and enjoy watching it!” Molly couldn't help the giggles that would escape her mouth as she walked to the tv and slotted the DVD into the player. “Don't even think of asking how I know that. I just do!” She insisted; pressing play on the box and moving to sit back on the chair she'd moved. “And, _no_ , John didn't tell me.” This statement caused Sherlock to fall from the sofa in a huff and sprawl himself on the floor in front of Molly's chair. 

 

“I don't like this theme tune very much, Molly.” Sherlock shuffled himself so that his head was in between Molly's legs just so she could stroke her hand through his curls. He was very much like a cat in that way, wanting to have his hair stroked. He _even_ purred sometimes, _much_ to Molly's amusement. 

 

“Liar.” 

 

“ _David Tennant_? Who is he?” 

 

“He plays the Doctor, Sherlock, you know that as well as I.” Molly mumbled to the room as Sherlock continued to ask questions purely for his own entertainment. 

 

“Molly. I don't like this Martha woman because-”

 

“If you say black, I _swear_ to God I will kill you and make sure that _nobody_ , not _even_ John, Lestrade _or_ Mycroft, will _ever_ find your body or know that I was the one to kill the great Sherlock Holmes. Now will you _please_ be quiet so I- _we_ can watch the program!” 

 

“Well, I _was_ going to say because she reminds me too much of you, and if she ever gets hurt or threatened I feel as though I'm stuck here in the real World and I can't help you escape.” The hand stopped moving in Sherlock's hair. Molly didn't know whether she was hearing correctly because this was Sherlock, the one man on the Earth whom _never_ revealed his feelings or true thoughts to anyone in this context. “Molly, your mouth has been bobbing up and down like a goldfish for the past thirty seconds. Would you mind closing your mouth? It is rather distracting me from Ten's dialogue.” Molly's mouth shut abruptly. “Thank you. The Master fellow in this episode is _great_ though.”

 

“Is that because he reminds you of Moriarty? It's fine if that is the reason, I just want to know the truth.” Molly's fingers started to twist themselves in Sherlock's curls once more, causing the man to moan deeply from inside his chest. 

 

“Mostly. I like to watch his insanity and how he manages to manipulate everyone in the entire World, even his wife, into the predicament that all are involved in.” Sherlock mumbled half heartedly back to Molly. 

 

“That's a lot more _human_ than I expected it to be, Sherlock. S-Sorry. I'll, erm, just watch the episode.” 

 

For the rest of the episode Sherlock and Molly sat in the same position, Molly still stroking his hair, with Sherlock shouting random things at different intervals of the episode. In all honesty, Molly found it far more entertaining watching Doctor Who with Sherlock than she would _ever_ let on. At the end Sherlock started to shout, “No, Martha! Don't leave!” which caught Molly totally by surprise because she had hair in her ahnd one minute and the next the head had disappeared till it was _directly_ in front of the screen so that it could tap on the glass viciously. 

 

“Sherlock?” Molly received a sniffled hum in reply; Sherlock was... _Upset_?! “ _What_ in the time of the eleven Doctors was _that_ about?” Sherlock turned towards her and hugged his knees close to his chest. 

 

“I-I _suppose_ that I might have overreacted because of my connection from Martha to you. That reminded me how you could easily walk out and leave me at any moment, yet you stay and put up with me like _nobody_ has ever done before. Not even John. Sometimes, I feel as though I am slowly becoming more human and that is because of _you_ , Molly Hooper.” Sherlock was still curled up on himself, rocking gently as Molly stared silently. She didn't want him to _ever_ admit that, secretly. It was one of the things that terrified her the most. Sherlock not being Sherlock, any more. 

 

“W-why would you say that?” Molly whimpered as the tears she had managed to contain fell down her cheeks. 

 

“Because, Molly, it is the truth and I have vowed _never_ to keep the truth from you ever again, no matter the consequences. Do you know why?” Molly shook her head briefly as her eyes tried to stop the dark gaze that had fallen upon Sherlock from her own face. “If I tell you everything, I'll always be with you. Just like I should be.” Sherlock paused and coughed slightly to clear the tears in his eyes now. “I believe that Amy Pond once said ' _together or not at all'_! I want that to be _our_ relationship. Forever.” Behind Sherlock's eyes, Molly could see every piece of hatred that he had for her as she still kept everything from him. She wanted to tell him, she _really_ did, but not yet. “Can we watch another episode of Doctor Who now, please? I particularly like Donna Noble because she has a certain ' _sa-ss'_ about her that makes me want to laugh, _constantly_.” Sherlock moved himself back and wiped the tears. 

 

“She's my favourite David Tennant companion, that's for sure!” Molly added before wiping her tears away and allowing Sherlock to place himself on top of her. She hugged his body close and hid her face in the crook of his neck, never wanting to reveal it to the World again. 

 

“I understand, you know. I know that you can't tell me but believe me, I understand no matter how _hard_ you think it's going to be telling me.” Sherlock sighed before moving to put the DVD in the player and clicking play. Molly and Sherlock's relationship was tearing itself apart because Sherlock wanted to know the truth and Molly didn't want to tell. **Why?**

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Sherlock, it's your turn to pick what we're doing today!” Molly called from the kitchen, listening to the melody flowing out from the living room. “Sherlock?” The music stopped and was replaced by the sound of Sherlock shuffling around the room and turn the television on. “ _Sherlock_?” Molly moved herself into the room and found Sherlock sitting in his chair, with a mug of coffee, a plate of biscuits and Doctor Who starting up on the screen.

 

“I, er, thought that we could watch Doctor Who together today, Molly. I... _enjoyed_ watching it with you last week and thought that we could, you know, repeat the good times. Just like we do in bed tog-”

 

“No! Stop _right_ there!” Molly smiled down at the man and looked around, “Where would you like me to sit, Sherlock?” With a slight pat of his leg, Sherlock raised his eyebrows suggestively at the Pathologist. Molly moved herself onto Sherlock's lap and kissed Sherlock's cheek. 

 

“What was _that_ for?” Sherlock asked, slightly stunned.

 

“For being sweet.”

 

“Sweet?” Molly nodded and proceeded to watch the screen as the episode started. “ _Sweet..._ ” Sherlock mumbled to himself as his arms tightened around Molly's waist. Pressing a kiss to Molly's forehead, Sherlock turned his attention to the screen also, now content with the World. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> In formal wear


	19. Dressed in formal wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly are invited to the Holmes Annual Ball. What will Sherlock reveal to Molly before they agree to go and how will Sherlock's parents react to their first sight of Molly?

_ **Dressed in formal wear** _

 

As much as Sherlock tried to hide the envelope from Molly, he had taught her so many ways to read a person that she knew exactly what was wrong with him as soon as she heard the bedroom door open. Molly had heard the post come through, so went down the stairs to collect it before Mrs Hudson could mutter anything about 'not _being their housekeeper_ '. She'd then put the letter, in a gold envelope, next to Sherlock on the bed before quickly leaving and 'busying' herself in the kitchen. Molly was in fact sitting and waiting at the kitchen table for Sherlock to storm out about something. She knew what the gold envelope meant. 

 

When Sherlock did storm his way out of the bedroom, he threw the envelope at the table, _just_ missing Molly, before pulling out a chair and sulking into it. Molly wanted to laugh at how _childish_ Sherlock was being over this letter, but she had to move on and 'comfort' him. 

 

“What's wrong, Sherlock? I thought that you liked me getting the post.” Molly teased before switching on the kettle. “Surely the letter isn't _that_ ba-”

 

“It's from my parents, Molly. Something is _always_ wrong or bad when my parents decide to invite me to something.” For the first time, Molly noticed that Sherlock had in fact opened the envelope, hesitantly going by the shape of the tare, and looked inside. He obviously wasn't impressed by what was inside as it had been ripped into two and returned to the envelope. Molly took out the paper and read it... Carefully.

 

_'Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper,_

 

_You are courteously invited to attend the Holmes Family Annual Ball._

 

_Date: Friday 13 th September 2013_

 

_Venue: The Holmes Manor_

 

_Dress Code: Black Tie_

 

_We hope that you can attend this annual celebration of autumn with us._

_Hoping to hear from you as soon as the time arises._

 

_Siger and Meghan Holmes'_

 

“Oh. Dear.” Molly whispered once her eyes had finished scanning the paper. “What's wrong with your parents inviting you to their party, Sherlock?” Dark eyes fixed their gaze upon Molly's face, she raised her eyebrows in response to the man's _stupid_ behaviour. 

 

“They've held once ever since Mycroft was born. Wanted to show him off,and everything. 'Typical _of the Holmes_ ' everyone used to say. Mycroft is almost forty two, so this is their forty second Annual Ball.” Molly only stared and nodded for Sherlock to continue when he paused. “I arrived after their seventh ball and they _hated_ my presence. Mycroft was always the polite young lad whom carried around the drinks and helped women with their coats. When I was old enough, say four or five, being far ahead intellectually, I helped my brother for the first time and managed to drop a tray of champagne filled glasses.” Sherlock's whole body stiffened at the memory.

 

“What happened after that?” Molly pried even further. If it made Sherlock act this way then it was important to her! 

 

“The whole party managed to hear and came rushing to found out what I'd done. They knew it was me before they'd even arrived. Every single one of them. When they found me crawling around on the floor to pick up all of the glass, my hands were covered in cuts form the glass, which I hadn't noticed, and my suit was ruined. When I paused to look up at all of the darkening stares that were upon me, I could see Mycroft in the corner hiding behind the stairs. He told me once that he had dropped a glass and father had locked him in his room for the entirety of the next day. No food, a single glass of water and a bucket to use as a toilet.” Molly's hand placed itself on Sherlock's furthest shoulder and pulled his body into hers. She _hated_ seeing Sherlock in his 'memory periods'. “My father told the maid to take me up to my room and sit with me until he came up to see me. Mycroft had appeared to help clear up the mess, receiving praise from everyone in the room. They obviously didn't know about his mishap only years before because he was Mycroft and Mycroft Holmes _never_ did anything wrong!” Sherlock sniffed slightly and wiped his forehead. 

 

“When did you father appear?” 

 

“My father came up after he had sorted out the music once more. They like it to be a formal and have everyone waltzing with their partners, you see. He came to my room, instructed the maid to leave and clear the floor with the others and locked the door behind her. She did that, obviously.” Sherlock sighed loudly before continuing. “He sat himself down on my bed and patted next to him so I would sit next to him. 'Sherlock, come here' he said to me before I slowly made my way I over...”

 

“ _Yes, sir.” A young Sherlock replied, pulling himself up onto the bed and crossing his hands in his lap. He made sure that his back was straight and that his eyes faced the wall instead of his father._

 

“ _Sherlock. I'm sure that Mycroft has told you what I had to punish him with when he dropped one champagne when he was younger, yes?” Sherlock nodded slightly, his eyes wide open. He knew that he would get worse. He always did. “Speak up, boy!”_

 

“ _Yes, sir.” Came the boy's quiet reply._

 

“ _That was a single glass, whereas you dropped an_ entire _tray of full glasses filled with_ expensive _champagne tonight. Do you know what I'm going to have to do, boy?” Sherlock shook his head and then realised that his father was waiting for a verbal answer._

 

“ _You're going to have to punish me, sir. Just like you did with Mycroft.”_

 

“ _Yes, I shall. Unfortunately you shall have a worse punishment than your brother because you did more damage.” Sherlock's head shot up to meet with his father's gaze. His fingers were twisting together rather tightly. “First of all, I'm going to sort your hands out, because they're_ obviously _causing you pain. Look at them now.” Sherlock looked. “Whilst I do that, I shall explain to you what I'm going to do, boy.”_

 

“ _Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”_

 

“ _Good lad.” Siger said before ruffling Sherlock's hair and moving out of the room, using the key he brought inside with him to lock the door, and made his way downstairs._

 

“What did he do to you, Sherlock?” Molly asked, her arms were painfully tight around Sherlock's body now but he didn't care, and nor did she for that matter. 

 

“He came back of course and started his plan...” 

 

“ _Plan..._ ” Molly mumbled to herself before Sherlock continued. 

 

“ _Good to see that you're still sitting_ exactly _where you were, boy. You didn't move did you?”_

 

“ _Of course not, fa-_ sir _.”_

 

“ _Good. You're learning, Sherlock. Soon enough you'll be just like Mycroft.” Siger grabbed his son's hands and started to clean and bandage them, viciously. “How many day was Mycroft locked in his room, boy?”_

 

“ _One day, sir.” Sherlock replied trying not to wince in pain at the pressure his father was applying to his wrists and hands._

 

“ _For you, Sherlock, it's going to be four days in this room, fed one meal every day, with no books, your violin or your science equipment.” Sherlock's eyes opened wider than they were before at the pure_ horror _of his whole lively hood being taken away from him for_ four _days._

 

“ _That seems reasonable, sir.” Sherlock managed to squeak out when he caught his father's death gaze fixed purely upon him._

 

“ _I'm glad that you agree, boy.” Siger stood from the bed and moved to the door. “You shall now come and say your goodbyes to everyone,_ especially _the family, Sherlock, and then you will return up here and go to bed. Is that understood?”_

 

“ _Yes, sir.” Young Sherlock had lost his voice by now._

 

“ _I didn't_ **hear** _you, boy!”_

 

“ _Yes, sir!” Sherlock almost shouted before running down the stairs to say his goodbyes to everyone. This is how everyone would remember him in the future. Who was he kidding,_ nobody _would remember him at all. He would always be in Mycroft's shadow. “Good night, miss.” Sherlock said to all of the ladies in the family, and “Good night, sir.” to all of the men. He whispered to his mother, “Good night, mummy.” before placing a kiss onto her cheek and walking back up the stairs. When he returned to his room_ everything _was gone. Sherlock no longer had his violin, his chemistry set, his experiments or his books._ Everything was gone! 

 

 _That night, after his father had slapped him on the cheek for not addressing his mother as 'miss' like he_ should _had done, Sherlock cried himself to sleep. At this age he needed it more than later on in life, but he still found it extremely boring. Each day, Sherlock would not eat the food given to him, only drink the water so that he could use the toilet, and he would not sleep. Sherlock didn't want to test his father, but this was a way that he found to help him cope. This is where all of his problems started._

 

“Sher-” Molly couldn't finished her sentence, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. 

 

“I don't need your pity, Molly. It _was_ over thirty years ago.” Although he wouldn't let Molly see his face, Molly knew that Sherlock had been sobbing at the memory. 

 

“That's _horrible_!” Molly practically shouted before Sherlock whispered. 

 

“Every year my father would trip me over several times in order to punish me. He always did _love_ the punishment. That was until I was thirteen though and decided to punch him back. You should have seen his reaction. It was _priceless_. I was sent to Boarding School every year any way, but that year they'd decided that they didn't want me at any more of their balls. I couldn't be happier!” Sherlock chuckled to himself before his eyes darkened slightly. “The next time I was _forced_ to go to the ball, which was the last time that I was forced might I add, I was eighteen and about to head to university. That's where my freedom began.”

 

“Have you seen them since?” 

 

“Once or twice. Mycroft managed to kidnap me into going to see them. I _despise_ every visit. My father always finds some way of embarrassing me.” 

 

“When was the last time you went to one of these balls, Sherlock?” Molly asked, her hands finding Sherlock's hair to sooth his mood slightly. 

 

“Five years ago. They invited John and I, so we attended. John _insisted._ It was the most painful experience I have _ever_ endured, alongside the phone call I had to make to John whilst on the roof of St Bart's.” Sherlock sighed. “He would taunt me in every way possible and compare me to Mycroft and how he was the _perfect_ son; not gay like I am-”

 

“But, you're not gay!?” Molly questioned. 

 

“He thought that because I lived with John that we were in some kind of intimate relationship that involved sexual encounters. He was wrong, of course. Mycroft and I didn't get our intelligence from him. Our mother was always more intelligent, she just didn't show it. They still send me an invitation every year and expect me to turn up. When I don't they find me and give me ten lectures about how I should attend family events. It's all just one big punch into my stomach. They're the reason why I turned to the drugs, smoking and self harmed-”

 

“You _what_!? Please tell me that you're lying.” Sherlock shook his head once before continuing to stare at the door. “You self harmed? Sherlock! _Why?”_

 

“I wanted to hurt myself so that my parents couldn't. Every day, being in a room on my own you see, I used to cut myself to let out all of my troubles from the bullying and tediousness of the teachers and students at my school. It helped.” Molly started to sob once more before moving herself. 

 

“I think that we need to go to this ball, Sherlock, and prove that you are a _million_ times better a man than your father or Mycroft have ever been and ever will be.” Sherlock shook his head violently. “They won't do anything while I'm there, and I'll be able to stick up for you when anything happens.” Molly insisted trying to convince Sherlock as quickly as possible. 

 

“They'll pick up on you constantly.” 

 

“I don't _care_! I want to say a few things to them, as well.” Molly yelled before she disappeared into the bedroom to choose a dress. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Ah, Miss Hooper. Good to see you.” Mycroft was standing at the front door and dressed even smarter in this suit than in his usual attire. “I hope that Sherlock is wearing a tie.” 

 

“Mycroft. It's _Doctor_ Hooper to you. Please stop babysitting your brother, he is old enough to look after himself being an adult and all.” Molly snapped back before turning to see Sherlock behind her on the stairs. “Wow.” Molly whispered as she took in Sherlock's appearance. 

 

“I hope it isn't too much, Molly.” Sherlock was fiddling with the black tie around his neck. Apart from the tie, Sherlock looked completely normal. He was wearing his purple button down and his black suit, just the tie added. “Mycroft.” He snarled before letting Molly sort his tie out. “You look gorgeous by the way, Molly.” 

 

“Thank you, Mr Holmes.” Sherlock chuckled as he saw Mycroft scowl at the sentiment that his brother was showing towards his girlfriend. Even to Mycroft, Molly looked gorgeous. She was wearing a purple dress that fitted her top half and flowed from the waist down. Sherlock and Molly put together looked _perfect_. “Shall we go?” Molly asked placing her lips to Sherlock's, _this_ would annoy Mycroft!

 

“Of course.” Sherlock replied attaching his lips rather quickly and deepening the kiss. They broke apart when they heard a cough from Mycroft. “Sorry, brother. Is something bothering you about my relationship with Doctor Hooper?” Sherlock's eyebrows had raised teasingly. Mycroft _actually_ blushed. 

 

“Nothing at all, brother. Come along, the pair of you.” Mycroft stepped into the car and was quickly followed by Molly and Sherlock. 

 

When the car pulled up outside of a building, Molly couldn't help but let her mouth fall open at the sight. It looked _amazing_ and huge, especially since Molly was used to flats. 

 

“Ready, Molly?” Sherlock grumbled holding out his hand to her. She nodded so Sherlock opened the car door and stepped out into the light coming from the manor. Molly used his hand and made her way out of the car only to stare at Sherlock and how the light made him look even more perfect to her. 

 

“Do you like what you see, Miss Hooper?” Sherlock teased, taking her arm in his and leading her into the house. He paused briefly before stepping in and immediately laying eyes upon his parents. His mother rushed towards him as soon as she saw him. “Hello, mummy.” Meghan held Sherlock's face in her hands and smiled, surprisingly, sweetly. 

 

“My dear boy. It's so good to see you again, Sherlock.” Meghan pulled Sherlock into a hug, which Sherlock seemed to enjoy, and then let him go to look Molly up and down. “Is- Is this the Pathologist I've been hearing all about, son?” 

 

“Molly.” Sherlock mumbled before both his mother's and Molly's gaze were focused on him. “Yes, mummy, this is Doctor Molly Hooper,” Meghan smiled sarcastically at her, “my girlfriend.” Sherlock's mother's mouth dropped at the last part of the sentence. 

 

“Your what?” Siger appeared beside his wife and managed to manipulate himself into the conversation. 

 

“I happen to be Sherlock's girlfriend, Mr Holmes. Molly Hooper, pleasure.” Molly held out her hand and smiled convincingly, although she didn't want it to look that way at all. Siger took her hand and placed a kiss to her knuckles, she felt Sherlock's arm tighten around her waist. How had it gotten there? 

 

“Good to meet you, Doctor Hooper. Mycroft has been telling us all about how you've turned Sherlock into a _real_ human being.” Molly had to blink several times to make sure she was hearing clearly. Sherlock only rolled his eyes before turning his gaze to Mycroft in a form of disgust. 

 

“I'm sure, Mr Holmes, that Sherlock has always been human. He certainly looks human to me.” Siger looked taken back by Molly's comment. “Sherlock has always been a _'real'_ human being to me, Mr Holmes, no matter how he acts around everyone. I love him, and he loves me. Surely a ' _real_ ' human can do that.” Molly continued to spit out the words without even speaking. “Just for your information, I am very grateful for the way that you've treated your son because I am sure that if he hadn't have grown up the way he had, that I would not love him right now. Sherlock.” Molly started to walk away; leaving Sherlock with his parents. 

 

“Sherlock, boy, how do you manage to stand that _mouse_?” Siger snapped as he grabbed Sherlock by the arm slightly. Sherlock pulled himself away and glared at his father. He _could_ do this!

 

“Molly Hooper is _not_ something that I can pick up and mess around with, _sir._ She is the kindest and greatest woman that I have _ever_ had the privilege of meeting. If you do not approve of her, I no longer care to be your son.” 

 

“What do you mean, 'approve'?” Meghan finally spoke up from the speeches being made around her. “No.”

 

Sherlock swallowed slightly before smiling and saying, “I intend to ask for Doctor Hooper's hand in marriage.” His smile became more of a cheeky gesture alongside his words. Siger's hand raised and balled into a fist. Before his fist could connect with Sherlock, however, Molly had managed to move in the way and take the blow for herself. She fell to the floor and the music stopped completely. _Everyone_ was staring. 

 

“Molly?” Sherlock was cradling Molly in his arms before helping her to her feet. “You.” He pointed his finger at his father. “You, _sir_ , are a _monster_!” Sherlock shouted before moving Molly into the kitchen to get her some ice. “Molly.” 

 

“I couldn't just let him _hit_ you, Sherlock.” Molly smiled slightly before raising her hand to cup Sherlock's cheek. “I love you too much to stand by and watch you take _that_.” Sherlock moved to the freezer and returned with some ice wrapped in a towel. He placed it _carefully_ to Molly's cheek before taking her other hand in his. 

 

“I love you, too.” Sherlock smiled looking down at what his father had done. 

 

“Well done, by the way.” Molly congratulated him chuckling slightly when his eyebrows creased. “For standing up to him like that! You really made me proud, Sherlock.” Molly's smile was warm and comforting. Sherlock moved closer until they were only inches apart. Then their lips collided and the room filled with fireworks all around them. When they broke away their gazes found each other immediately. “I really _do_ love you, Sherlock Holmes.” 

 

“And I really _do_ love you, Miss Hooper.” 

 

Mycroft entered the room, breaking the intimate moment of course, with the news that Sherlock had been dreading. 

 

“Mycroft.” 

 

“Sherlock. Mi- _Doctor_ Hooper. I have come to tell you that mummy and father would like you to leave the manor immediately. They say that they do _not_ approve of your life choices, Sherlock, and how Doctor Hooper here has shown herself to them tonight.” Mycroft had swallow. “Mummy sends her apologies, Doctor Hooper.” Molly only nods in recognition. “I'll have a car here in a few minutes to take you back to the flat.” Mycroft left the room, allowing Sherlock and Molly to be alone once more. 

 

“I'm sorry.” Molly whispered so quietly that Sherlock didn't make out a word. 

 

“Pardon?” 

 

“I'm sorry, Sherlock. I shouldn't have said anything to your father about your past. I was too inappropriate and I'm sorry that it's getting us chucked out of your home.” Sherlock pulled Molly towards his and held her close to his chest. 

 

“Now, now, Miss Hooper. They're only kicking us out because they can't stand the fact that _I'm_ the one who's going to have a fa-wife, _not_ Mycroft.” Sherlock mentally kicked himself for the correction of family. He hoped that Molly wouldn't notice. 

 

“You said that?” Sherlock nodded against Molly's head. His phone then vibrated in his pocket. 

 

_' **The car is here, brother. You might want to come and leave now to avoid any more... Drama. -MH'**_

 

“It's time to go, Molly.” Sherlock and Molly made their way out of the kitchen and towards the exit. Their path, however, was blocked by everyone at the ball standing in the way and staring at them. Molly blushed slightly before looking at Sherlock's smirk. 

 

“Good on you, Holmes.” One man in the crowd shouted before the whole party separated allowing Molly and Sherlock to walk through. When everyone started to clap the couple, Molly thought she was dreaming. 

 

“She's good for you, mate.” Molly heard another man shout. She couldn't hide the smile that had grown on her lips. Molly Hooper was _enjoying_ rubbing her presence in the Holmes' faces. _Haha_ she thought to herself finding the parents at the door. 

 

“Good evening, Sherlock dear. I hope that your evening is pleasant.” Meghan said in her vile tone before turning away and walking towards Mycroft. 

 

“Mummy.” Sherlock replied before she moved away. 

 

“Yes. Goodbye, son.” Siger managed to say without spitting out the words. “And you, _Doctor_ Hooper.” Molly gave a firm nod before pulling Sherlock from the building and laughing as soon as nobody was around. 

 

“Well _that_ was worth the punch!” Molly managed to blurt out through giggles. Sherlock had joined her in her laughter and pulled her close. 

 

“I don't care what they say. I love you and if they don't like it, it is no longer their problem!” Sherlock kissed Molly softly before opening the car door for her and slipping inside after. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as it took me forever to write.
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Dancing


	20. Dancing... Sort of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Sherlock try and recover from the previous night's antics, but when Sherlock's mother turns up at the door and has news for them both what will happen to Molly and Sherlock's relationship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I hope this isn't too long for a chapter. There isn't much dancing if I'm honest. I couldn't be bothered to write it!? Any who. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

_ **Dancing** _

 

After the _remarkably terrible_ events of the night previously, Molly and Sherlock decided that they didn't want to return to the Holmes Manor, much to Sherlock's parents' 'distress' because they did not wish to face someone who would hit their own child because of whom he loved. Yes, they decided never to set foot in that house again unless the circumstances were dire. Molly, personally, didn't care that she was the one to take the hit. In fact, she was happier knowing that Sherlock hadn't been hit at all. Everyone at the party seemed to respect Molly greatly for what she did in order to stop that abuse, and she was very happy about how they were treated afterwards... Even if it meant getting kicked out of the Manor!

 

The next morning, however, someone appeared at 221B's door whom they did not expect to see in a _long_ time. She wore a deep red dress that Molly thought accentuated her curves and a black coat, like a female version of Sherlock's belstaff one. Sherlock's mother had arrives at their flat. 

 

“Good morning, Sherlock dear.” Meghan whistled as she stepped inside the flat and took off her coat. “I see that you and Molly have not slept a wink since last night's... _events_.” Sherlock's eyebrows were raised and his eyes full of darkness for his mother. _Why is she here?_ Sherlock thought to himself as he shut the door behind her. 

 

“Mother,” Sherlock snapped as the door clicked shut, Meghan turning towards him in acknowledgement. “ _why_ are you here?” His arms folded across his chest as he stared down at the woman. 

 

“Sherlock, do I _need_ a reason to visit my youngest?” Meghan asked so cheerfully that Molly thought that she was actually going to be sick at how ridiculous this woman was being with her motherly relationship with Sherlock. “And I thought that you called me 'mummy', Sherlock?”

 

“Not any more, _mother_. Since I am no longer welcome in the Holmes family, I have decided that I will no longer use personal names for you or father.” Sherlock paused to unfold his arms and walk to find Molly, whom had been hiding in the kitchen, and give her a kiss on the forehead and a smile. “You haven't answered my question yet, mother. _Why_ are you here?” 

 

“I've already told you. I came to visit you because you are my son and-” Meghan's eyes dropped to the floor as Sherlock stared her down even further, “I worry about you constantly.” Wow, those were original words to Sherlock's ears... _Not._

 

“I don't _need_ your tedious sentiment, mother, I shall only accept it from Molly as she and I have used this situation to choose what is best for our relationship and connection with you.” Molly sighed slightly and walked forward to lead Meghan to a chair. “Molly, what are you doing?” Sherlock received and evil glare from Molly causing him to sit down opposite his mother. 

 

“Mrs Holmes-”

 

“Please, call me Meghan, Doctor Hooper.” 

 

“I shall, if you call me Molly.” Meghan nodded and Molly sat down next to Sherlock at the table. “I think we need to sort this out with you so that you understand the decision we have made, Meghan. Sherlock and I were utterly disgusted by both your and your husband's behaviour last night. I have heard about these balls before and how Sherlock was treated at the one where he helped for the first time and then onwards until he didn't come home until the holidays each year.” Molly paused to look at the woman whom was staring at her intently. “I think you should know that I don't understand _why_ you dislike me so much, considering we have only known each other for a few minutes. Then your husband decided that it would be good to punch Sherlock even though he was only trying to stand up for me. Sherlock is a human being, no matter what Mr Holmes wishes to call him.” When Molly finished her rant she had become slightly out of breath. Sherlock sighed loudly to signify that he agreed with every word that Molly had said to his mother. 

 

“I am truly sorry, Molly, for the behaviour that we showed you last night. It was neither right, nor helpful to our family name-”

 

“What do you mean, ' _helpful_ '?” Sherlock sneered, standing from the chair and slamming his hands onto the table in fists. “All you and father care about is the family name! It makes me sick!” He hissed before pushing the table slightly and storming from the room and throwing himself onto the sofa. 

 

“I didn't mean to upset him, if he would just apologise-” 

 

“I don't think he wishes to apologise, Mrs Holmes. I don't think he has _anything_ to apologise for. You waltz in here like your family always does and try to control his thoughts in order to get him to apologise to _you_! Siger hit me!” Molly almost screamed at the woman sitting opposite her. “Do you understand that?” 

 

“Molly.” Sherlock soothed before pulling her out of her chair. 

 

“No, Sherlock. She needs to know how you feel about this. You're being pushed from your family because of me...” Molly turned back to Meghan and slouched slightly. “You came here because you have news, didn't you?” Meghan nodded slightly without looking up at either of them. “What was it, Mrs Holmes?” Meghan stood from the chair and walked towards the pair. 

 

“My husband has asked Mycroft to write up an order that decrees you are no longer allowed any where near our son.” 

 

“ _What_!?” Sherlock snarled pulling Molly behind him, acting as a human shield. “You can't do that! Mycroft _wouldn't_ do that to us, mother!” 

 

“Mycroft's men are right outside at this moment waiting for me to give the order to take Doctor Hooper away from here. Everything has been drawn up and put into affect.” As soon as Meghan Holmes' words were finished, six men crashed their way into the flat and tore Molly away from Sherlock kicking and screaming, literally. Both of them tore and shouted for each other as the men took Molly's arms behind her back and slapped cuffs around her wrists. 

 

“Doctor Hooper, we are detaining you away from this man due to the protocol of the Holmes family. You must come with us now.” One of the men said to her, knowing that she wasn't listening. Molly was watching, tears all over her face and in her eyes, Sherlock as he was restrained by two of the men. His eyes were full of hurt, one which would never end, and repulsion for his family and what they were doing. “Doctor Hooper, you must leave with us, _now_!” The man repeated. 

 

“C-can I just say one more thing to him? _Please_.” Molly's begging gaze had fallen upon Meghan as her arms folded around her body. She nodded and Molly was allowed to fall into Sherlock's embrace. When close enough to whisper into his ear, Molly said, “Never forget our last dance, Sherlock. I love you, forever and always.” With one last kiss placed to Sherlock's lips, Molly was dragged down the stairs by the men, still screaming, and into the back of a black van. Sherlock couldn't move. He couldn't speak, or think about what was happening to his life. 

 

“Sherlock.” Meghan's arms found themselves around Sherlock's shoulder. They were shrugged off violently as Sherlock dragged her by the arm to the door of the flat. 

 

“Get. _Out._ ” Sherlock hissed, pushing his mother's coat into her arms and forcing her to leave the flat. 

 

“Understand that we did this for you, Sherlock. Nobody else. She wasn't good for you!” Meghan said her final words and made her way downstairs to meet with Mycroft. She explained how Sherlock was acting and sent him up to sort his brother out. 

 

Sherlock had stormed into _their_ bedroom and started to throw everything around; avoiding _all_ of Molly's belongings. ' _She wasn't good for you_ ' his mother's word rattling through his mind made his behaviour even worse when Mycroft stepped into the room. “What do _you_ want, Mycroft? You are no longer welcome any where near me! I won't hesitate to get an order for you!” Sherlock snarled as soon as he saw Mycroft's silhouette in the doorway. 

 

“You must understand that I had no choice-”

 

“ _No_ choice?” Sherlock started to laugh sarcastically before he grabbed Mycroft by the lapels of his coat and shoved him against the wall with a huge shove. “How could you let your parents walk over you like that and take away the one person who means something to me, Mycroft? Answer me that!” Mycroft's eyes betrayed his body by showing he was scared of his brother's attitude to the situation. 

 

“What did Doctor Hooper say to you before they took her away, Sherlock?” Mycroft smirked slightly when Sherlock's eyes widened and he let Mycroft fall to the ground. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head into his hands. “She said ' _remember our last dance, Sherlock._ '” He recited and looked down at his brother. “What does that mean?”

 

“It means remember last night and how you danced together for hours when you returned to the flat. She'll always be available to you, Sherlock. Even when our parents don't want her to be. I shall sneak her in at any available opportunity and make sure that you will be together.” Sherlock didn't know what to say to Mycroft's reply so Mycroft added, “You're welcome, brother dear.” before leaving the flat and turning his attention to keeping both Molly and his mother happy. 

 

Sherlock started to smile as he remembered the night before and how he and Molly had danced for hours. It was Molly's idea of course, because she didn't want to have her dress wasted. She wanted to dance just like they would have at the ball whether they were in the flat or at the Manor. Welcome or not. 

 

“ _Your parents seem like_ great _people, Sherlock.”_

 

“ _Oh, Molly. You haven't had to live with them for thirty four years! It's_ all _very tiresome.” Sherlock replied to her before sitting her down in a chair in the kitchen.“Can I have another look at your eye?” He asked carefully before Molly turned so that the forming bruise was near his hand. “You're going to have a nasty bruise there, Molly. If you keep ice on it, the damage will look a lot better.” Sherlock advised before moving away from her and taking her hand in his._

 

“ _Sherlock,” Molly received a hum in response signifying Sherlock's crappy mood since they had laid their eyes on his parents an hour or so previously. “will you dance with me?” Molly asked quickly, letting out a huff after she finished._

 

“ _Of course.” Sherlock replied and turned to look at the Pathologist as she continued._

 

“ _You don't have to if you don't want to, I just think we should use our time-”_

 

“Molly. _I have already agreed to dance with you, if you were listening.” Sherlock chuckled to himself before turning to his record player and placing a vinyl disk on it; yes Sherlock still had one of these! He then went back into the kitchen, held out his hand and asked, “Miss Hooper, may I have this dance?” Molly smiled warmly at him before taking his hand and walking with him to the living room._

 

“ _Mr Holmes, you certainly may.” As the music started, Molly recognised it as_ her _song. The song that Sherlock had composed for Molly while he was destroying Moriarty's web. Sherlock led her around the room twirling as spinning. For hours they changed the music and style and simply enjoyed each other's company. That was the_ true _reason why Sherlock and Molly didn't sleep that night. They didn't want to._

 

Sherlock, still sat on the bed, smiled to himself as her remembered the memory, what Molly had said to him and what Mycroft had promised before he left him alone again. He _would_ get Molly back into his arms whether it killed him, _literally_. Sherlock loved Molly too much to let her go easily. 

 

“ _Love_.” Sherlock mumbled to himself before running out of the room and grabbing his coat and scarf and flying out of the flat. Dialling John into his phone he ran into the street. “John.” He started to smile as he hailed a cab, “we have a new mission. Operation 'Get Molly Back.'” He frowned slightly and replied, “Yes, I am _never_ saying that again! Agreed!” before jumping into the cab. The game was on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Thank you for reading, I hope that you enjoyed it and that I haven't hurt your feelings too much in the process. 
> 
> The next chapter is: 
> 
> Baking.


	21. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is so bored without Molly by his side, in their bed and in their home that he has turned to something he never thought he'd have to do again now that he didn't live with Mycroft... BAKE!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again.
> 
> I hope that the lack of Molly isn't too bad!? I think she's probably my favourite character so... I know I'm sad about what I'm doing. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

_ **Baking** _

 

After the _tedious_ event of Molly being banned from her own home, Sherlock hadn't been able to see her for three weeks, five days, nineteen hours and twenty two minutes, exactly. He'd counted, of course. That was _way too much_ time for Sherlock to not go insane without Molly's presence! John and Mycroft had both tried to convince Sherlock that things would calm down and that he'd be able to see Molly again. Sherlock didn't believe them, _obviously_. Today, it was only five am, Sherlock decided to cease his boredom by doing something for Molly when he was _finally_ allowed to see her again. He knew _exactly_ where Molly was, her old flat as that seemed like the best place for Molly to settle in quickly to, except every time he attempted to go any where near there, Mycroft would send someone to knock Sherlock out and return him to the flat. It was all _very_ predictable! 

 

So today, Sherlock would avoid being knocked out once more by Mycroft's men and just stay in the flat. Not allowing _any one_ in and not going out himself. No, instead he would do something that would take his mind off the whole thing _completely._ Sherlock Holmes, the newly resurrected Consulting Detective, was going to... Bake... For Molly. So, it wouldn't _actually_ take his mind off of Molly at all!? Sherlock decided that this could turn into an experiment. 

 

“How many cakes can I bake in forty eight hours?” Sherlock mumbled to himself while he was completely lost in thought. Totally _not_ about Molly, though! Everything _but_ Molly in fact. Molly was nowhere in his mind at _any_ point during the three hours he had spent thinking about her... “ _Shut up_!” Sherlock scolded himself before jumping from the sofa and into the kitchen. He would do this completely on his own and without any one knowing until John arrived in two days time. Sherlock laughed to himself before turning the oven on and rushing around the kitchen to see what ingredients he had... “Probably should have checked _before_ I turned the oven on.” Sherlock cursed to himself as he reduced the oven to zero and left the flat. 

 

Sherlock almost ran to the shops, filling his trolley with as many cake related things as he could when he got there. For some reason, he hadn't deleted baking from his Mind Palace and remembered himself being quite the 'professional' when he was younger. He called himself a professional because whenever Mycroft was on a diet, Sherlock would bake baskets of cakes and treats and leave them outside of Mycroft's room; a fan blowing the smell inside. Yes, Sherlock knew _exactly_ how to break Mycroft's diets so that he wouldn't be able to resist Sherlock's _requests_ in the future. 

 

By the time Sherlock arrived at the till, he was in full laughter at the memories of what he was able to make Mycroft do after he'd baked all of those cakes for him. Mummy would _never_ be happy if she found out Mycroft had broken his diet, so this was what he had to do to get Mycroft to follow his wishes. “ _Mycroft._ ” Sherlock growled to himself before he was brought back to reality by the woman behind the till. “Good morning.” He smiled sarcastically before he started to load the shopping onto the belt. After John's predicament with the self-service machines, Sherlock _never_ went near those _things_! When Sherlock left the shop he was rather proud of himself. Maybe when he and Molly were _finally_ married he would help her wth the shopping? _Maybe._

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was two days after Sherlock had started his experiment/gift for Molly, yet he wasn't tired like he'd expected himself to be. He decided that it was probably just the excitement of knowing that John would see his handiwork, even though, in hindsight, all of this wasn't even for _John_. He was currently laying upon the sofa, his hands together under his chin and his eyes closed; only waiting for John to see the surprise. Exactly at the time Sherlock had predicted, John was padding his way up the stairs to the flat. Sherlock smirked to himself slightly before listening to the scene. He could practically hear John's mouth drop when his eyes caught sight of what Sherlock had done to the flat. 

 

“Sh-Sherlock?!” John yelled when he managed to gain his mind back from the room. “T-there's cakes... _Everywhere_!” His arms flayed out in emphasis as he look at the room. 

 

“Well observed, John. As usual your powers of deduction astound me completely.” Sherlock replied sarcastically; his smirk now turned into a smile. John _wasn't_ joking when he said that there were caked everywhere, because he was totally right. Every inch of the living room and kitchen that John could see were covered in cakes. Big cakes and small cakes in their variety. Sherlock left _nowhere_ uncovered when he decided to see how many cakes it would take to cover the _entire_ flat. 

 

“H-how many cakes did you bake?” John said raising his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezing. _I_ must _be dreaming_ he thought to himself, but when his eyes reopened, he was still standing in the living room of 221B looking at a whole _World_ of cakes. 

 

“I believe that it took me four thousand and twenty nine cakes to cover the entirety of the flat, plus four or five that I _may_ have eaten before you arrived.” Sherlock jumped up onto the sofa and looked at John's raised eyebrows. “What? You and Molly are always nagging me to eat, so with the few spare Victoria Sponges that I made, I replenished my food supply.” Sherlock finished with a smile that showed _just_ how proud he was that he'd managed to do this. 

 

“How long did all _this_ ,” John threw his arms around to show his point, “take you, _exactly_?” Sherlock, god knows how, managed to find himself a way to get to John because now he was standing beside him and chuckling. 

 

“Forty nine hours and twenty three minutes.” 

 

“What are they all for?” John shrugged as he picked one up from the ground. 

 

“They're, um, a gift for someone.” Sherlock paused and turned away to also pick up a cake. They'd both chosen to have a chocolate muffin. “Someone _special_.” He whispered. 

 

“Molly.” John chuckled before looking up at the Detective and smiling even more than before. “She's going to bloody kill you when she comes home and sees _this_.” 

 

“That's just it, John. I doubt that Molly will ever be coming home to me.” Sherlock sniffed before taking a bite of the muffin and jumping into the kitchen to turn the kettle on. He sighed slightly as he leant against the side and thought everything through for the millionth time in the past week. 

 

“Hey, Sherlock. Molly _will_ be back here _soon_.” John replied taking a bite of his own muffin and looking around. “How many cakes did you say again?” 

 

“Four thousand and twenty nine.” Came Sherlock's reply, his voice strained as he tried to hold back the tears of the memories from the past few weeks. Seeing Molly in the shops and hugging her so tightly he thought that he would break her. Then everything went black, of course. Seeing her at the morgue and almost fainting at the sight of her, was that _supposed_ to happen? 

 

“Sherlock!” John shouted and placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder in comfort. “I thought I'd lost you there, mate. You've been staring at the kettle for the past five minutes.” He chuckled before stiffening himself and asking, “Were these all for Molly, or did you plan on sparing some for Mary and I? Even Mycroft, perhaps?” Both Sherlock and John smirked at the story that had once been told. Who knows, maybe Mycroft might just swing in Sherlock's favour if five boxes of freshly made cakes turned up at his door! 

 

“Of course you and Mary can have some, John. I'm sure that Molly will not appreciate over four thousand cakes in her flat!” Sherlock chuckled to himself before picking several cakes up form the floor and putting them in a box that John had completely ignored. “I hope that Mycroft likes cake.” John laughed and punched Sherlock on the arm slightly before Sherlock himself started to laugh. “Who am I kidding? Mycroft Holmes _loves_ cakes!” The flat was filled with an unmistakeable laughter that Mrs Hudson recognised immediately. Oh how she'd missed Sherlock managing to laugh... She'd just hoped that he could get Molly back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please leave any thoughts below!
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> In battle side-by-side


	22. In battle, side-by-side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious stranger finds himself in Molly's flat. What state is he in? What will happen Mycroft's men come to collect him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Sorry that this update is late. I had loads of homework to do, so... 
> 
> Here it is.

_ **In battle side-by-side** _

 

Molly had been so lonely without Sherlock around. She'd had to return to her normal and very _boring_ life before Sherlock had returned from his missions. Even though she'd been acting like she was having the time of her life, it was clear to all those around her that _actually_ Molly Hooper was not _okay_. In fact, she was as far away from okay as she could be for someone who had been forced to restrain from her lover. She had no idea what to do with herself everyday, so her daily routine consisted of getting up, screaming because she was alone and going back to bed. Molly was in a real state. 

 

This morning, however, Molly decided to get out of her bed for more than five minutes and actually do something. If Mycroft Holmes, the man whom was practically the British Government all on his own, couldn't solve this crisis then there was no point in hoping for any kind of removal. Molly was all on her own now, she couldn't afford to mope around all day. No. Now that she was alone she would get on with her life without Sherlock turning up at every point. 

 

“Good morning, World.” Molly sang quietly as she threw open her bedroom curtains. The sun was shining and there looked to be no sign of rain, thank goodness. As she stepped, well danced, around her house she potted a figure standing outside of the window staring at her. Stopping, she went to look for the figure, but it had vanished. Nobody looked suspicious. With a shrug of the shoulders, Molly started towards the kitchen. She turned the stereo on and placed her season four of Glee in. When 'Americano/Dance Again' started to blast through her flat, Molly started to twirl and sing along with Kate Hudson. “Woooah America! Americano!” Molly sang as she walked back into the living room with a spring in her step. Today was going great. What she didn't expect was the same shadow from before standing in front of her front door. Molly screamed and immediately ran for a knife in the kitchen. When she returned, knife clutched tightly in hand, she shouted, “Who are you and _what_ are you doing in _my_ flat?” 

 

Slowly the stranger pulled his hood from his head to reveal the familiar curls of Sherlock Holmes. His eye was bruised and his lip split. Molly's lips curled into a bright smile all the way to her eyes. For a moment neither of them stepped forward into each other's embrace, simply watching the other to see how bad the damage was to them inside and out. Sherlock looked _bad._ Along with his black eye and split lip, he was clutching his ribs with a hand that looked frail because of the way his wrist had broken. _Oh god_... Molly thought to herself before moving towards him and folding herself in his arms. 

 

“I've missed you so much, Molly.” Sherlock whispered into Molly's hair, placing a kiss onto her head. “I-I'm sorry!” Was Sherlock _crying?_ His voice certainly told the tale of that being true. 

 

Taking Sherlock's face in her hands, Molly replied, “Hey, Sherlock. It's okay. I've missed you too!” Without warning, and a wince of pain from Sherlock, Molly pulled him into her embrace tightly and didn't let go for five minutes. After they had found each other again Molly looked at Sherlock's wrist. “Do you want me to have a look at you?” Sherlock nodded before walking to the sofa and flopping himself down on it, without hurting himself too much. Molly's eyes squinted at Sherlock's reaction to the situation and then moved into the kitchen to get the first aid kit. 

 

“Right, Sherlock, you and I are going to go to the hospital so that we can get your wrist checked out.” Molly called as she opened the cupboard; hearing Sherlock groan in response. “Take your shirt off.” As she walked back into the room, she saw Sherlock struggling to get his t-shirt over his head because of the pain his wrist was causing him. “Here let me help.” 

 

“No, Molly. I'm perfectly capable of taking off my clothes!” Sherlock moaned as Molly helped his arm through. “OW!” He almost screamed as his wrist was freed from the fabric. When Molly looked at his bare chest, she could see that he'd been working out, his muscles toned unlike she'd seen before, the other things she could see made her feel ill to the brim. His whole chest was scattered in blue and purple bruises which had come from a man's fists, knees and feet. When she stroked her hand through Sherlock's curls, her hand came back covered in drying blood. “Sherlock. What happened to you?” Molly started to check Sherlock for concussion, but the dilation of his pupils was probably because of her and not because of the possible concussion he had. 

 

“I-I had a r-run through with Mycroft's men.” At the end of his sentence he managed to let out a tiny chuckle before he collapsed back on the sofa wincing from the pain. “Y-You'll need to strap my wrist up b-before his men come to get me...” As soon as Sherlock said that there came a hard knock from the door. 

 

“Doctor Hooper!” A man shouted through the wood. “You need to come out here with Mr Holmes and give yourself up.” Molly looked at Sherlock before he nodded. Her hands were around the tape and his arm in seconds to wrap his wrist up. She helped Sherlock to pull his t-shirt over his head before hitching his arm over her shoulders. 

 

“Ready?” 

 

Sherlock nodded, “Ready as I'll ever be.” He winced before freeing himself from Molly's hold and pulling out a gun for her. She caught it with ease and walked in front of the door. When it opened the men straightened themselves. Her gun was hidden until she spoke once more.

 

“If you'll be so kind as to retreat,” Molly pulled the gun out and aimed it at each of the men in turn, “I have some matters I would _love_ to discuss with Mycroft Holmes if you wouldn't mind!” 

 

“So would I.” Sherlock appeared form the doorway and made himself shown to the men. “I'm sure he'll want to discuss what his men have done to his _brother_.” His eyebrows raised and a smirk played on his lips before he took Molly's hand and led her out of the building. “Now you know why I allowed myself to be beaten by Mycroft's men.” Sherlock giggled as he stepped into the car after Molly.

 

“Wait. You did _this_ on purpose?” Molly asked bewildered. Sherlock nodded and continued to smile wickedly. “You are such an idiot!” She too began to giggle, causing the driver to glare at them pointedly. “So, what's the plan for Mycroft.” 

 

“Plan? We need a plan, Molly?” Sherlock asked almost innocently as he stared into the eyes he'd missed so much over the past few months. 

 

“Yes, Sherlock, _we_ need a plan of attack.” Molly sighed and looked back at the man, “Thank you for the cakes! They were _delicious_!” She whispered before snuggling closer to Sherlock and placing a deep kiss onto his lips. When he tried to speed it up however, Molly refused and pushed him backwards. “Hey, Mr. We need a plan. _Now._ ”

 

“You know what, Molly? As long as we are together, in battle side-by-side, then nobody can hurt us!” Sherlock said back to her before starting the kisses again. Molly squirmed against him so he moaned, “Okay. I've got a plan. Stop worrying. It's only _Mycroft_.” 

 

“Have you ever been kidnapped by your brother? He is rather _scary_!” Molly whined before mumbling into Sherlock's neck, “Worse than you when you're angry.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, Sherlock. Just,” She sighed slightly, “I love you.”  


“I love you, too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> The next chapter:
> 
> Arguing


	23. Arguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene Adler turns up to stir things around in Molly and Sherlock's lives. Secrets are told and truths are uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! 
> 
> Here it is, the new chapter! :)

_ **Arguing** _

 

After an excruciatingly _terrible_ meeting with Mycroft, ending in Molly being arrested and Sherlock sedated and locked in his flat for three weeks, awake and complaining to the ends of the World, both Sherlock and Molly decided that they would have to go about this a different way. They would play everything the way Sherlock's family would want them to... _I don't think this will work, Molly._ Sherlock had repeated several times, but Molly wouldn't have any of it!

 

Today was the day that Molly would come over to the flat and take the remainder of her stuff back to her flat. Mycroft had willingly agreed for this to be okay. Sherlock wasn't worried, they would use this time wisely together. Someone else, however, obviously had other plans. 

 

“Hello, Mr Holmes.” 

 

“Miss Adler.” Sherlock sighed before standing up to meet her gaze. Irene was wearing a short green dress that fitted her frame perfectly, with a black duffle coat on top of it. “I was told that you were dead... _Again_.” Irene laughed before pulling off her coat and sinking onto the sofa. Sherlock's brows creased as he folded his arms.

 

“Oh, but I was told the same thing about _you_. Seems that every time we meet, we seem to have even more in common than the previous time.” Irene purred, folding her legs under her. “Come on, Mr Holmes. I don't bite,” She smiled before winking and finishing, “okay, maybe I do.” 

 

“What do you want?” Sherlock snapped at her. 

 

“I came back to get what's mine.” Irene had moved herself to stand in front of Sherlock, her hands moving up and down his chest seductively. “Shame that you now belong to Doctor Hooper.” For a few seconds Irene looked around the room. “Oh, but where _is_ Doctor Hooper, Sherlock?” She started to smile once again; _obviously_ knowing where Molly really was during this time. 

 

“You're right. I do belong to Molly now. So if you'd be so kind as to shunt off, I'd be much obliged.” Sherlock smiled sarcastically at her before he tried to make his escape from her grasp. He knew that Molly would arrive any moment, surely he could hold out till she got here. 

 

“I know what you're thinking, Mr Holmes. Don't worry, I'll be so quick that Doctor Hooper won't even know what we've done. I'll be a much better shag than that stupid mouse!” Irene purred once more slipping her arms around Sherlock's neck. He shrugged her off and walked towards the door way, picking her coat up on the way. 

 

“I said _leave_ , Miss Adler...” Sherlock looked the woman up and down before correcting himself, “I'm sorry, did you change your name when you married Miss Kate, or did she take your name?” Irene rolled her eyes before walking and taking her coat from the Detective. She could hear Molly talking to Mrs Hudson for a few seconds before her footsteps started on the stairs. 

 

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Mr Holmes.” Irene said loudly so that Molly could hear before pulling Sherlock by his shirt to connect her mouth. Her lips moved in a way that made sure that Molly would think that Sherlock's were moving as well. When Molly gasped, loudly, Irene parted and placed a soft kiss to Sherlock's nose before winking at Molly and skulking down the stairs. Her work here was done. Sherlock was right though, she was married to Kate now. So why did he _still_ make her skin tingle whenever she saw him? She knew she'd never find out, all she wanted was one kiss. She had gotten that. “Goodbye, Mr Holmes.” Irene whispered to the air before walking away from Baker Street and straight into a car. 

 

Back in the flat, Sherlock was staring straight towards the wall. His mouth had dropped and his eyes were wide. He realised what he'd just let happen _and_ in front of _Molly_. Sherlock's cheeks were blushing fiercely when he turned to Molly. He hadn't even heard her tears or her dropping onto the floor before he'd turned, but now he could see her broken... He'd caused _that_. When he walked towards her he didn't hear her scream for him to get away so he continued forward towards her. When he felt himself fall to the floor he knew that Molly was in a _bad_ state. 

 

“Get. _Away._ From. Me!” Molly shouted as she ran into the bedroom of the flat. Sherlock was up fast and picking her up by the hips so that he could look into her eyes. “Get. _Off_!” Molly shouted once more, her fists slamming onto Sherlock's chest. He grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her away to look at her fully. 

 

“Molly! It is _not_ what it looks like at all! It would _never_ mean anything to me if that woman came back and decided she wants me!” Sherlock insisted watching as tears kept falling from Molly's eyes. “Irene Adler means nothing to me! _Nothing_! I have given my heart to you, and you know that. Why would I want you so much as to leave you the _moment_ we realise how much we've lost by my family's wishes, eh?” Molly swallowed hard before squinting at the man. “What?” 

 

“I don't believe you, Sherlock. John has told me _all_ about Miss Adler and how she affected you during the case you had with her. I can't believe that you expect me to believe you when I've heard all that about you!” Molly sniffed before tearing her arms away from Sherlock and walking away, only to turn back to him. “How can I trust you to tell the truth?” Molly's eyes widened at what she'd blurted out; she knew what was coming next.

 

“How can you talk to _me_ about telling the truth when you've been hiding the truth from me for so many _months_? Tell me the truth now, Molly. What is it that we both know is true right now. I want to hear it leave _your_ mouth!” Sherlock shouted back, louder than he intended initially, throwing his arms in the air around him. “Well, go on, since you're all about telling the _truth_! I've been so honest with you that I didn't even think it possible for me. Why would I be lying now when I've almost got you back? So, go on. _Tell me_!” Sherlock was breathing heavily now, his hands resting on his hips and his chest moving quickly. 

 

“I'm infertile.” Molly whispered, she knew that Sherlock heard but that wouldn't be enough for him to forgive her. 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“I CAN'T HAVE CHILDREN! There, I said it! I can't have the family that I _want_ with you because my ovaries are fucking up!” Molly screamed at the Detective before she burst into tears. “You have _no_ idea what it took for me to keep _that_ a secret from you all this time! I-I didn't know who would break first; me or you!” 

 

“ME? What have _I_ lied about?” 

 

“You've been keeping tabs on me for years, haven't you. Getting Mycroft to spy on me and update you on things that I would have discussed with you, were it not for the fact that you were being suspicious enough for me to steal your phone and read those messages. That broke me, Sherlock. I didn't think that I could tell you anything because you already knew it! I have been living in this lie and it has been _fucking_ killing me!” Molly's eyes were red and puffy now due to the tears and her face was blotchy. 

 

“That doesn't excuse you lying to me about not being able to have children. I-I don't understand why you haven't talked to me about it, Molly.” Sherlock's tone was calm now, his hands were running through his curls, pulling every now and again. 

 

“You spied on me, that's why. You always talk about telling the truth and believing in each other, yet you get your brother to update you on everything that goes on in my life. Why can't you just leave me to live my life how _I_ want to, instead of you controlling every single move I ever make. I-I can't do this any more. I'm sorry, Sherlock, but we are through. Tell your family that they can keep their order in play if they wish to.” Molly wiped away her tears before storming out from the flat and trying to remain calm. 

 

Molly dialled a number on her phone and started to speak as clear as she could, “Mary. I-I... Can I come over?” Molly sniffed slightly before starting to walk to Mary's house with John. “It's Sherlock and I... We've. I saw him with Irene Adler and we had a fight. We're over.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! :)
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Making up


	24. Making up afterwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Sherlock decide that it's time to sort out their problems and talk about things in their past. What else does Sherlock have in mind, and what impact will it have on the future?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this is so late. 
> 
> I had to revise and stuff... Homework. I also read lots, and lost track of time. 
> 
> Any way, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. I enjoyed writing it more than the last chapter. :)

_ **Making up afterwards** _

 

_'Molly, I hope that you're okay. Mycroft told me that you've vanished from his radar. -SH'_

 

_'It's been a week, Molly. Please let me know that you're okay. -SH'_

 

_'I'm sorry! There, I said it. Can you come back now? -SH'_

 

_'Please... -SH'_

 

_'MOLLY!'_

 

_'We need to talk, Molly. Please just let me explain myself to you... Please. -SH'_

 

_'Miss Hooper, please. -SH'_

 

_**'** _ **I believe you'll find that there's a 'Doctor' before Hooper there, Mr Holmes. -Molly.'**

 

_'Oh. I apologise, Doctor Hooper. If I had known that it would take calling you the wrong title, then I would have completed that mistake long ago. -SH'_

 

**'What do you want, Sherlock?'**

 

_'I want you to come home. -SH'_

 

_'I've got some things to talk about, to ask you and to show you. Please, come home. -SH'_

 

**'I have one condition on this visit, Sherlock.'**

 

_'What is it? -SH'_

 

**'You have to promise me something.'**

 

_'In case you wanted to know, I just groaned at that request. What would you like me to promise you, Doctor Hooper? -SH'_

 

**'You, Sherlock Holmes, have to promise me that you will do good to your word. You've been telling me truths throughout the past months, yet you lie also. We both need to be able to tell each other exactly what's going on _without_ the other one spying on them!'**

 

_'I agree. Come over. -SH'_

 

Sherlock felt happy with himself, not getting a reply however, because it hadn't taken much to convince Molly after all the weeks they'd spent a part. Sherlock had typed nine hundred and thirty two texts, though only sending seven of them in the four weeks they were apart. 

 

Currently Sherlock was sitting in his Mind Palace pose, thinking and sorting through Molly's room and predicting what Molly might have done to change herself in order to lose Mycroft's vision. A soft knock at the door made Sherlock spring into action and throw himself towards the door. Before turning the doorknob, Sherlock straightened himself out and ruffled his curls slightly to make himself look more presentable for Molly. When he opened the door, he saw something that he never thought he would see again. Molly Hooper, exactly the way she was before, yet her hair had been dyed an electric blue colour. Sherlock didn't know whether it suited her or not, to be honest he didn't care any more. Molly was back in his life and that's all that mattered. 

 

“Hello, Sherlock.” Molly smiled tightly before her eyes squinted slightly at the man. Her eyes darted up and down the Detective's form taking in everything that she saw before her. “Food. That's what's needed. For you and me both.” Molly briskly walked past the man and into the kitchen to start preparing something for them to eat. How had she noticed that Sherlock hadn't been eating? Maybe it had just been natural instinct to presume that, Sherlock didn't know. “Sherlock. Sit down.” Molly nodded her head towards the chair at the table before turning back to the toast in the toaster. 

 

“Molly, I-”

 

“Save it.” 

 

“You came here so that we can talk, correct?” Molly nodded slightly, still not looking at the Detective. “Well then, let me speak. And do please come and sit down.” She sat down next to Sherlock and placed her head in her hands. “Thank you, Molly.” 

 

“I believe that we both have some explaining to do. Do you want to go first? I mean you don't have to but-”

 

“I'm sorry that I got Mycroft to update me on your whereabouts. I realise now that it was inappropriate for your own privacy reasons, but I only did it because I wanted to make sure that you were always happy while you were with me. I-I only wanted what was best for you...” Sherlock ended quite abruptly realising that this probably wasn't what Molly wanted to hear him say. “I did it because... I love you.” Molly turned towards him and sighed slightly so Sherlock carried on. “I understand that you haven't been sleeping going by the level of make up under your eyes in an attempt to hide the black bags. They are also extremely bloodshot and red, which could be from crying, also likely in this situation, though I'm sure that you've gotten over me quickly.” Sherlock paused and studied Molly for a moment, “Going by the sudden intake of breath; you haven't gotten over me, much like I haven't particularly got over you! As I was saying, you have lost twelve, no thirteen pounds this month. You've not been eating as regularly as you used to. Why? Job becoming too much for you? No. Me. When you're not around me you don't feel the need to eat because you don't need to make me eat.” Molly's eyes closed slowly before she took another sigh. “Should I continue, or have we got enough evidence from you?” 

 

“You might as well go on, Sherlock. It'll be my turn in a minute, and believe me, I've been practising. Go on.” 

 

“Fine. You've dyed your hair that _horrendous_ shade of blue in order to forget the comments and compliments I have made about your hair over the time we've known each other. From the way your body just stiffened I can tell that you regret this decision because it hasn't helped in any way except to make you feel stupid. Am I correct?” 

 

“Yes, you're always correct when it comes to things like this.” Molly mumbled subconsciously tugging on her hair as Sherlock spoke to her. “I accept your apology, by the way. I understand why you wanted to check up on me and I'm sorry that I never told you about my problem. I clearly should have. B-but when I found out about Mycroft's messages, I wanted you to approach _me_. I-I'm sorry.” Molly swallowed before looking into Sherlock's eyes and smiling slightly. 

 

“You mentioned that you had been improving your deductions?” Sherlock pressed, raising his eyes slightly and receiving a chuckle when he rolled his eyes without realising. 

 

“Of course. You, just like me, have not been sleeping nor eating. But for Sherlock Holmes that is _nothing_ out of the ordinary. In the month that we haven't seen each other you have slept... Oh. Three times for three hours, occasionally taking fifteen minute naps in order to keep your mind awake when your body begged for rest. You've spent a total of twenty days, four hours and thirteen minutes in your Mind Palace in the time we've been apart and now you're silently cursing yourself because you taught me so well.” Molly smiled as Sherlock's back straightened. “I can see that your body is being strained though because your eyes are _exactly_ like mine in their condition, which means that you are not used to being _this_ tired. I made you go to bed in order to refuel your mind, but now that you've taken that away again, your body doesn't like it. I can smell smoke on you... You've, erm,” Molly cleared her throat, “taken up smoking once again. I can smell your cologne, but I know that you haven't showered for at _least_ four days because your hair has the natural grease that you get when you don't wash. Your violin has been to get mended three times because you've smashed it against the wall when you began composing a song for me. Can I leave it there, please?” 

 

“You may.” Sherlock replied almost silently. “I accept your apology, Molly. I think that we both are to blame because neither talked to the other about the truth that would arise itself. I believe that we both wished to avoid the inevitable argument that would come out of it. I'm just sorry that it was Irene Adler that brought it out...” Sherlock trailed off as he felt Molly's glare on his curls. “Sorry. I hope you now understand that I would _never_ cheat on you. I still wish to marry you, Molly.” 

 

“Sherlock-”

 

“Which brings me to my next topic of discussion. I have finally been able to twist Mycroft's arm and get him to rip apart that _pitiful_ warrant. If you wish you may return here to Baker Stree-Mpphm” Sherlock was cut off when Molly threw her lips onto his. God, how he'd missed the feel of her body against his chest. Her smell, her eyes, her... hair. When they broke apart, both were out of breath. Their chests were heaving and their pupils were blown wide. “I-is that a yes?” Her reply was a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips once more. They'd both missed each other too much to not go back to how they were before. “One more thing, Molly.” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Put this on.” Sherlock demanded handing Molly a silk blindfold. She sighed slightly before taking it and placing it over her eyes. Sherlock walked behind her and tied it tightly around Molly's face. “Come with me.” He said before taking Molly's hand and leading her out of the flat. They stepped into a car, Molly with Sherlock's assistance of course, and allowed themselves to be taken to a mysterious destination. Well, it was mysterious for Molly any way. 

 

“Sherlock, _where_ are we going?” 

 

“It's supposed to be a surprise. I thought that's what you're supposed to do when-”

 

“Ahem!” The driver interrupted Sherlock's question before he revealed too much for Molly to know what _exactly_ was going on. 

 

“Nevermind.” Sherlock snapped before taking Molly's hand to his lips and placing kisses along her knuckles and letting her hand fall again. His breathing quickened and his leg started to bounce on the spot, he really hoped Molly didn't hear anything. 

 

“I hope this is worth the blindfold, Sherlock.” 

 

“We're here, Molly.” Came Sherlock's reply as the car came to a stop, it had obviously been longer than a few minutes after Molly had asked him the question, but that didn't bother her right now. “Come along.” He added before taking her hand and helping her out of the car. After they'd walked for several seconds, Sherlock let go of Molly's hand and walked away, leaving her alone to stand in the middle of nowhere. 

 

“Sherlock?” Molly asked looking around though she still could not see. “Sherlock?” She asked once more though in a snapping tone before she yanked the blindfold off from her eyes and winced at the light that hit her. When her vision cleared she could see and orchestra and Sherlock standing on the fountain in Hyde Park. “W-what?” Sherlock gave a quick nod and the orchestra started to play, Molly immediately recognising the tune. She _loved_ this song!

 

Sherlock began to sing, “ _L- is for the way you look at me. O- is for the only one I see. V- is very, very extraordinary. E- is even more than anyone that you adore can. Love, is all that I can give to you. Love, is more than just a game for two. Two in love can make it. Take my heart and please don't break it. Love, was made for me and you!_ ” Sherlock took Molly by the waist and started to waltz around the grass. Both of their smiles were genuine and warm towards the other. “ _L- is for the way you look at me. O- is for the only one I see. V- is very, very extraordinary. E- is even more than anyone that you adore can. Love, is all that I can give to you. Love, is more than just a game for two. Two in love can make it. Take my heart and please don't break it. Love, was made for me and you! Love, was made for me and you! Love, was made for me and you!”_ The music stopped leaving Molly and Sherlock staring into each others eyes. Molly now knew exactly what was coming for her, especially when Sherlock started to lower to the floor. 

 

“Sherlock.” 

 

“Please. Molly Hooper, I have never loved anyone before you and I'm glad that this was the case because without my repulsion for love I would not be here today, kneeling down in front of you, and about to ask you the most important question of both of our lives.” Sherlock let out a deep breath before looking at Molly and smiling in the best way that Molly had ever seen before her on Sherlock's face before. “Doctor Molly Hooper,”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Will you do me the tremendous honour of making me the happiest man on the Earth by sealing our love and becoming my wife?” Sherlock smiled once more, though this one was filled with hope more than any other emotion. 

 

“Of course I will.” 

 

“You don't have to of course but-”

 

“Sherlock!” Molly cupped Sherlock's face in her hands and pulled him up to his full height. “I would _love_ to marry you, Sherlock Holmes. Yes!” Molly kissed Sherlock lightly before he ignited more fiery kisses. He then realised that people all around them were clapping and cheering for the couple. Eyes were staring and people were smiling at them. 

 

“Would you like your ring, Miss Hooper?” Sherlock whispered, twisting a piece of Molly's hair out of her face and placing a chaste kiss onto her forehead. Molly nodded so Sherlock took out the velvet box that had been hidden in his sock index for the past year and opened it for her. “Do you like it?” He asked nervously as Molly's mouth dropped. Sherlock had chosen a 14 carat white gold band, with two white diamonds and one fancy blue one. He didn't think that Molly would want anything that had too many diamonds or jewels on, so he chose one that would suit Molly's personality. “I can take it back!” Sherlock insisted as he studied her face. 

 

“No...” Molly smiled up at the Detective, her eyes filled with tears. She took the ring from its box carefully and placed it on her finger. “I- Sherlock, thank you. I love so much!” Molly took Sherlock's hands in hers and pulled him towards her. Molly broke away suddenly leaving Sherlock whimpering from the loss. “I hope this didn't cost you too much money, Sherlock!” 

 

Sherlock smirked slightly and looked towards his brother who was standing next to a tree watching the scene, “Oh no. I didn't. I made Mycroft pay for everything, though I picked and paid for the ring with John one afternoon last year.” He smirked once more at the memory, being brought back by Molly's lips once more. He could get used to this again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> Here's Molly's engagement ring: http://zales.imageg.net/graphics/product_images/pZALE1-8218321t240.jpg
> 
> Yes, I went online to look for one... I do that all the time!? Not rings, though... Usually baby names, for some reason. I don't even want kids!? 
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Gazing into each other's eyes.


	25. Gazing into each others eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock wants to try another experiment...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)
> 
> Sorry the chapter is a bit short, but it's 23:16 and I'm tired... I hope you enjoy this chapter.

_ **Gazing into each others eyes** _

 

Molly stood in the kitchen, a book under her arm, and gazing at the ring that had been on her finger for three weeks now. Their wedding was next week and Molly was a _little_ more excited than she let on to Sherlock. If he asked her what flowers she wanted it would be a simple, “I don't mind, dear. Whichever you think suits us best.” with a smile. When Sherlock asked what cake Molly would like, “Oh please. You know what I like Sherlock. But I don't want this to be all about me. Pick something you like for a change!” Sherlock always rolled his eyes at Molly's choice of words, he knew that she wanted Sherlock to have a big part in the wedding... He didn't expect to be doing all of it though. 

 

Little did he know, however, that Molly had her own little surprises, thanks to Mycroft, that she had planned. She knew that Sherlock would stress over the whole thing sooner or later, so planned the whole reception and both of their vows. Sherlock would probably write his own for Molly to learn, but she would ignore that completely and make her own way through. Hopefully he wouldn't be _too_ angry about the changes. 

 

Molly was brought back to time when Sherlock called her name lightly. She hummed in recognition and turned to face the detective with a small smile playing on her lips. 

 

“Can I try and experiment, please?” Sherlock asked with an almost nervous tone in his voice. Molly had never heard him so nervous about _anything_. 

 

“You don't normally ask me when you want to try an experiment, Sherlock. Is there something wrong?” Molly asked teasingly. 

 

Sherlock shook his head and replied, “No. I just thought, since we're engaged now, that I should ask your permission for things.” She managed to sound five years old during his reply, with his inquisitive tone and child like pout. 

 

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Molly smiled at her Detective before she started to kiss his nose, lips, ears and eyelids. “I love you. Now, what is it you want experiment?” Her smile was warm as she held onto Sherlock's hands and kissed them lightly. 

 

“I-I would like to stare into your eyes, for as long as possible.” 

 

“O-kay?!” Molly replied and sat down at the table. “Come on.” She tapped the chair beside her and watched as Sherlock sat down straight backed. “How do you want to do this?” 

 

“Just stare.” Sherlock opened his eyes normally and stared into Molly's eyes. As Molly stared back she noticed how Sherlock's eyes seemed to change colour as he blinked or as his eyes moved around Molly's own. She noticed how the greys and the blues twirled around each other in the light and his pupils grew wider... _Arousal_! Molly's cheeks flushed slightly as she noticed Sherlock's hand snaking up her arm and towards her cheek. Molly wiped her cheek and returned her gaze to Sherlock to find that he was chuckling slightly. 

 

“What?” 

 

“There was no dirt there, Miss Hooper. I was imply showing signs of affection.” Sherlock smiled at Molly before placing his lips against her neck and sucking softly. Molly moaned at the contact causing Sherlock to move away form her slightly. “Are you alright, Miss Hooper?” He asked teasingly, staring back into her eyes and watching as Molly's pupils blew even wider than before. “Thank you for assisting me in that experiment, Molly. The results were most... _Informative_.” Sherlock raised his eyebrows and stood from the table. “Should we continue this somewhere more comfortable?” Molly nodded slightly before she was dragged back to their bedroom. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Wedding... OOHHHH!!!


	26. Getting married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day is finally here for Molly and Sherlock. Will everyone be happy with the way that things were going? And how will Molly react to all of Sherlock's decisions about the wedding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again.
> 
> Well, this took me forever to write. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_ **Getting Married** _

 

Today was the day.

 

Sherlock and Molly were to be joined together in hold matrimony for the rest of their lives. Molly had imagined this day for many years of her life, usually with Sherlock included as well. Sherlock, on the other hand, had never really imagined anything to do with relationships. He'd never even been to a wedding besides John's. He didn't know what to do, even though there had been a rehearsal, because he didn't want to disappoint Molly so much that Sherlock himself would have to run away. 

 

Sherlock couldn't... No, _wouldn't_ do that to Molly _ever_ again. 

 

In the end, John had agreed to being Sherlock's best man, like he could resist, and Mary was Molly's chief bridesmaid. Mycroft wasn't very happy initially because he thought that, due to him relieving the _small_ matter of Sherlock and Molly not being able to see each other, he would be Sherlock's best man. When he realised that John would be _much_ better considering that he always was very good at keeping Sherlock in line!

 

“Sherlock! You need to wear a tie!” John insisted grumpily. For the past ten minutes, Sherlock had been running around the flat in an attempt to avoid the gold tie that John had been holding out to him. “It's your _wedding_ , Sherlock. You _need_ to wear a tie; it's traditional.” Without even realising it, John had begun to use his pleading tone on the man. 

 

“I don't see why I _have_ to wear this damn thing, John. Molly wouldn't care if I turned up without it!” 

 

“Oh, Sherlock. I'm bloody sure that Molly would leave you standing at the alter if she found out about you not wearing one. What's the big deal? You wore one to Mary and I's wedding. This is exactly the same, except it's _your_ wedding and I'm _your_ best man?” John was running out of ideas completely. He didn't have long before Mycroft's car would be outside of the flat ready to take Sherlock to the best event of his life; no matter what his opinion on the matter was!

 

“I-I... _Fine_!” Sherlock snapped grabbing the tie from John's hand and watching in the mirror as John's lips turned into his 'winning' smirk. Sherlock rolled his eyes and began to fasten the tie around his neck. “Better?” He asked sarcastically before taking a gold piece of paper from the mantelpiece and reading it slowly to himself.

 

“Are those your vows?”

 

“ _Obviously_.” Came Sherlock's instant reply; he'd been expecting that question then. “Have you made sure that Mary doesn't reveal Molly's dress until she's safely dressed in it?” John nodded and sighed, this was going to be a _very_ long day.

 

“ _Yes_ , Sherlock. I have done everything that you demanded me to have done in preparation for today. It's not like I _would_ miss anything off, considering you'd eat me alive if I had!” John joked, earning him a sigh and a roll of the eyes. The glare that followed, however, was pure evil. Luckily, before Sherlock could get his hands on John, the doorbell rang signalling that Mycroft was _finally_ here. Sherlock wouldn't get the opportunity to turn into a stroppy five year old after all. 

 

“Good day to you, brother. John.” Mycroft managed to spit out from behind his apple as he walked up the stairs. Sherlock rose an eyebrow questioningly and smiled sarcastically at his brother. “Sherlock, please stop deducing me when it is your wedding day. I'm sure that you want everything to go well so that Miss Hooper doesn't leave you again.” Mycroft smirked wickedly causing Sherlock's expression to blank and his body to rise from the chair. 

 

“Oh, don't worry, Mycroft. I'm sure that there'll be _plenty_ of desserts for you to stuff your huge mouth with at the reception.” Sherlock countered before smiling one more and trotting down the stairs. John smiled at Mycroft and followed his best friend into Mycroft's car. _Sibling rivalry,_ he thought to himself, _you just can't beat it, can you?_ The worst thing is that Sherlock hadn't planned the anger that he had inside him. He still loathed Mycroft for what he had done but was grateful to him as well because he wouldn't alert their parents about what was happening this day until after everything was legal. The drive was long, silent and pendulous but then the church came into view and Sherlock managed to breath a sigh of relief. It was still standing.

 

Each of the men stepped out of the car and made their way inside the building. Sherlock thought that it looked perfect in every way, but that didn't mean anything to him. No, what Sherlock cared about anything more in the World at this moment, was if Molly would like everything that he had done here to make her happy. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

Molly's morning was currently going according to plan. In Mary's mind any way. Molly had her make up on and her hair up. She had seen the bridesmaid dresses, but not her own, and was now heading to get said dress on. Mary tightened the blindfold around Molly's eyes receiving a mumble along the lines of ' _what s it with everyone and blindfolds_ '. 

 

Taking Molly by the hand, her dress safely on her body now, Mary took her to stand in front of the mirror before taking the blindfold from her and revealing the dress that Sherlock had wanted to keep a secret until this moment. Mary smiled triumphantly when she saw the pure _relief_ that had sprawled itself across Molly's features. Mary agreed, Sherlock had chosen the _perfect_ dress for Molly, and it seemed that the bride loved it more than she expected she would. 

 

“W-wow.” Was the only word that Molly managed to say before tears started to form in her eyes. Mary ran immediately to wipe the tears away, screaming that Molly will ruin her make up if she cries before the wedding has even started. When Molly studied what she was wearing, she couldn't believe how well Sherlock had managed to get it just right for her personally. 

 

The dress was strapless, raising her chest slightly, and hugging her until her waist where it puffed out to the floor. There was a slight pattern in silver that appeared when the light shone on Molly in the right way. Molly _loved_ it. It didn't stick to her frame too much, nor did she look like a meringue like in some of the programs she had seen over the years. Next, she turned her gaze to her accessories. Her veil went down to her bum, practical, and was held in place by a small tiara covered in white diamonds. Her necklace was a small silver cross with a diamond inside and her engagement ring. Everyone, including Molly herself, in the room agreed that Molly looked _stunning_. 

 

“Molly, do you have your vows?” Mary asked her friend quietly before handing her the bouquet of flowers. When Molly nodded she let out a breath she hadn't realised that she'd been holding and smiled warmly at the bride. “Are you ready to go?” 

 

“Indeed I am. Thank you for helping me, Mary.” Molly pulled her friend into a tight hug before letting her go and allowing her to lead her to the car... _Limo_. “Mary, what is _this_?” Molly asked surprised as she stared at another perfect thing about her wedding. Standing before her was a sky blue limousine that she had told Sherlock about once. He remembered...

 

“One of Sherlock's surprises, I believe.” Mary smiled wickedly before helping Molly, and her dress, into the limo and getting in after her. “John and Sherlock are at the church now.” Mary read from her phone. Mary was wearing a deep plum dress that complemented the silver nicely of Molly's dress. Sherlock had chosen this colour because he knew that Molly's favourite shirt of Sherlock's was the purple one. _Clever man_ Molly thought to herself before she tightened her hands together. 

 

“I don't want Sherlock to know, but this has already been the best day of my life and the wedding hasn't even started yet.” Molly smiled at her friend before noticing the building that they were pulling up to. The whole building was covered in white flowers that hung together on vines. The entrance was covered in fairy lights that reminded Molly of Christmas. All of the trees were covered in blossom that was mildly pink. Everything looked amazing. Sherlock had fulfilled Molly's dream wedding without any guidance from Molly herself. How did he manage to remember everything that Molly had told him about her dreams in life. “How did he manage to do all of this?” Molly asked to no one in particular as she walked forward to the church doors. 

 

“Are you ready?” Mary asked as Greg came to stand by Molly. Ah, the one thing that even Sherlock Holmes couldn't make possible for this day. Bring Molly's father back from the dead to walk her down the aisle. Right now though, Molly was just glad that Sherlock had chosen Greg to take her down instead of Mycroft. Neither of them had forgiven him, in the slightest. 

 

“Wow, Molly. You look _gorgeous_.” Greg spluttered as he took Molly's arm in his own. After Sherlock's fall, Molly and Greg had become good friends. Each supporting each other through thick and thin. 

 

“Thank you, Greg.” Molly smiled warmly as she watched Mary throw open the doors before making her way down the aisle. Molly took a deep breath before setting her gaze upon the man that she had been wanting to see for hours... Sherlock himself looked as handsome as a man could get at this moment in time, and Molly wanted to treasure it forever. Surprisingly Molly wasn't scared or nervous at all about what was about to happen. After months of being kept apart, Molly had taught herself not t be nervous about this day. One thing that did worry her though was keeping in time with Greg as she stepped down the aisle. The music started and Molly and Greg followed Mary down the aisle. 

 

 _Left, right, left, right, left, right..._ Molly reminded herself constantly, until she realised that her hand had been handed to Sherlock and she was now being led up to the alter by her fiancé. They both smiled at each other before Sherlock whispered, “You look gorgeous, Miss Hooper.” 

 

“You don't look too shabby yourself, Mr Holmes.” Molly replied before staring at the priest as he started the ceremony. Before either of them realised, Molly and Sherlock were being asked to say their vows by the priest.

 

“I believe that Mr Holmes has made his own vows for the ceremony today. Mr Holmes.”

 

“Thank you.” Sherlock sighed, closed his eyes and smiled at his fiancée. Now was the time in which Sherlock could voice how he really felt to the woman he loved. “Molly Hooper, we met in school over twenty years ago and I knew that you had a thing for me.” When Sherlock smirked, Molly started to flush a deep shade of pink. “I, on the other hand, wanted to ignore every ounce of feeling I had for anyone. You especially, believe it or not. I now long for our days to be longer together and our time to never run out, because to me Molly; you are the most amazing person on this planet, and I would _never_ trade you for anything! You are my World, Miss Hooper. The clock that keeps my mind ticking and I love you.” Sherlock ended with a small, and very nervous, smile that made his eyes light up slightly. 

 

“And you, Miss Hooper? Do you have your vows?” Molly nodded and took Sherlock's hands tighter in hers than he had been holding them. 

 

“I decided that I would surprise you with the vows that I want to say because you have done so much work for this wedding, Sherlock, that I can't quite believe it is you that I'm marrying today.” Molly let out a long breath before smiling a cheeky grin and continuing _her_ vows. “Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, friend, martyr and soon to be, husband. I understand that people have had many names for you over the years that include things such as 'freak'. I only wish for you to know that you are not a freak, no matter what anybody tells you. Yes, your intelligence far outweighs theirs', but that doesn't make you any different or a freak in any way. I love you because of who you are and if they think that you're those things, then I want you to stay that way. You're perfect to me Sherlock and I love you with all of my heart.” When Molly looked into Sherlock's eyes, she could see that there were tears that he didn't want anyone to see clouding his vision. This made Molly chuckle slightly before the priest continued with the ceremony. 

 

“Sherlock Holmes, do you take Molly Hooper to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

 

“I do.” 

 

“And do you, Molly Hooper, take Sherlock Holmes to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

“I do.” 

 

“Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.” 

 

Sherlock and Molly both smiled before dragging the other by the neck to collide with their own. Everything was blocked out from then on as the cheers and the clapping started to fill the church. Eventually, when Mycroft unimaginatively shouted, “Get a room!” Molly and Sherlock broke apart and stared at each other contently. 

 

“Ladies and gentleman, Mr and Doctor Holmes.” The priest shouted as Sherlock took Molly's hand in his, gave a curt nod and started to make their way back down the aisle. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

Sitting in the middle of the head table, Sherlock took Molly's hand in his once more and started to place open mouthed kisses along her knuckles. He immediately felt her relax under his touch as though he were some kind of magician in the art of arousing her. “What did you think, Mrs Holmes? Did I get everything right?” Sherlock asked his new wife with a smirk plastered on his lips. 

 

“Oh, you and I both know that you managed to get _everything_ spot on, Sherlock.” Molly replied placing a small kiss onto Sherlock's lips and winking as John stood from his seat next to Sherlock. John tapped his glass three times and cleared his throat in an attempt to get everyone's attention. Eventually though, Mary got bored and decided to shout. Everyone shut their mouths immediately and turned towards John waiting for his speech. 

 

“Thank you. I'd just like to say that it's a fantastic honour to be standing here about to give this speech because I thought that I would _never_ see the day where Sherlock 'I have no feelings' Holmes decided to open his eyes and see what was staring him right in the face.” A small pip of laughter left people's mouths at the thought of Sherlock actually having to look past the deductions. “Mainly because he always verbally punched Molly in the face whenever he spoke to her, which always made me want to punch him might I add, but also because when he risked his life for three people in this room and I thought that I would never see him again. Yet, here he is. This daft old sod has driven many people 'round the bend over the years, including myself, and now I'm glad to see that there is finally someone who might actually keep him in line. So in line, in fact, that I won't have to treat him like a child when he insult Anderson at crime scenes.” There was a small round of laughter that made Sherlock blush slightly. “So, I raise my toast to Molly Holmes, as she has not only brought Sherlock out of his little hermit hole, but she has changed him for better. To Molly.” 

 

“To Molly.” The crowd cheered together, holding their glasses in the air and smiling as Molly blushed. Sherlock and John shook hands, but then they could resist it any longer and hugged each other close. Their friendship had gotten a lot better since Sherlock returned and _finally_ accepted that John did in fact have his own life besides the one that practically revolved around Sherlock Holmes. 

 

“Is it okay if I make a speech now?” Mycroft asked intending to break up the contact so their wives could have the men back. “I have made one especially for the occasion, dear brother, and I would truly _hate_ for it to go to waste.” Mycroft's smirk said all his intentions in one; he wanted to embarrass Sherlock out of his mind. 

 

“Of course, Mycroft. That'll be lovely.” Came the reply from Sherlock as everyone's mouths dropped open. Did he _really_ want Mycroft to make a speech about him? “On you go, brother.” Sherlock smiled, almost, genuinely at his brother before watching him stand. 

 

“As many of you can see, there are no parents of either the bride _nor_ the groom here today. There are two reasons for that, of course. Molly's parents have both passed away and I am truly sorry to bring that up on your wedding day, Molly.” Mycroft received a curt nod from Molly and a glare from his brother. He found it all rather amusing how they could act so differently from each other. “We shall remember them on this day for you. As for Sherlock and I's parents, we are afraid to tell you that they are not here purely because they do not accept Molly and Sherlock's relationship together. I had my part to play in their separation of course because I was blackmailed by my father into signing a document which meant that Sherlock and Molly could not see each other again. I-I am dreadfully sorry towards both my brother and his new wife for what I did, but I do not think of that any more by blocking it out with the thoughts of you both being closer now that you're back together.” Mycroft sniffed slightly, clearly ashamed, and cleared his throat before adding, “I must now tell you that both of the Holmes brothers have been disowned by their parents because of the things they believe to be right. So, I congratulate my little brother on finding the one thing that we have both been brought up to be against in our lives. Thank you Molly for saving Sherlock every time he has needed you most. I hope you have a long lasting marriage together and are always happy. Thank you.” Mycroft finished with a nod of the head before downing his glass of champagne and walking out of the reception. 

 

“I just need to go and talk to him.” Sherlock whispered into Molly's ear before kissing her softly and leaving the table. 

 

“Say thank you to him, from me.” Molly shouted after her husband... _Her husband_. Molly Hooper, the mousy Pathologist from St Bart's, had just sealed her marriage with Sherlock Holmes. “Mrs Hudson...”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Mycroft!” Sherlock shouted after his brother as Mycroft tried his best to walk away briskly from the scene. “Mycroft! Stop. Right. There.” Mycroft did as Sherlock asked and turned around to face the Detective in order to hear what he had to say. This wouldn't be good. 

 

“What do you want, Sherlock?” Mycroft snapped twisting his umbrella in hand. 

 

“I just wanted to apologise. I didn't realise that our parents had disowned you as well as I.” _Good start_ Mycroft thought to himself. But then Sherlock continued and Mycroft changed his mind. “Nor did I realise that you would mention that in there, and I am truly sorry that it might have affected your reputation.” _Maybe not_. “What I am trying to say is... I-I appreciate what you have done for Molly and I here today because none of this would have been possible if you hadn't have spied on Molly for me, or got us a warrant, or even lifted that warrant, so... Thank you, Mycroft.” Sherlock smiled at his brother before walking back into the reception and spotting Molly talking to Mary and Mrs Hudson. 

 

“Ladies and gentleman, I believe that it is time for the newly weds to dance together in their first dance.” The DJ shouted down the microphone. Molly and Sherlock's eyes immediately, and they both walked together at the same pace onto the floor and took the other into their embrace. When the music started to play, Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes at John's _ironic_ choice in song. 

 

“Oh, John. I am going to _kill_ him as soon as nobody can see!” Sherlock whispered in his low tone as the couple started to dance to L.O.V.E, once again. “Couldn't he be more imaginative with his song choice?” 

 

“Was he there when you proposed to this?” Molly asked as she leant closer to her husband and rested her cheek against his chest. She could feel every beat against her ear as she listened to Sherlock's voice hum from inside his throat. 

 

“Everyone was. Mrs Hudson. John and Mary. Lestrade. Even Mycroft came to watch. I think they all wanted to see if I would actually go through with the proposal.” They continued to dance until the music came to an end. “Now, Mrs Holmes. Shall we go home?” Sherlock asked suggestively in Molly's ear. 

 

“Of course we shall, Mr Holmes.” Molly replied with a quick kiss to Sherlock's lips. “Ladies and gentleman. I'm afraid to say that my husband and I are going to leave you now. Please feel free to drink as much champagne as you wish and dance all night long if that's what you want to do. Enjoy your night.” 

 

“You too, darling.” Someone in the crowd shouted back before the whole room erupted with laughter. 

 

After the couple had left the room, John whispered to Mrs Hudson, “If you want, I can rent you a room to get you away from Baker Street for the week?” Mrs Hudson nodded quickly. She knew what the couple would be up to during the next week, and she didn't _really_ want to hear it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Here is Molly's dress: http://www.davidsbridal.co.uk/wcsstore/images/wwcm/UK_Home/product/f13/F13_CKP588.jpg
> 
> And here is Mary's dress: http://www.davidsbridal.co.uk/wcsstore/images/wwcm/UK_Home/product/f13/F13_F15409.jpg
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> On one of their birthdays


	27. On one of their birthdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly hasn't received anything from Sherlock this year. Only a text saying that everyone reminded him and that he was sorry. But what has Sherlock actually done for Molly's birthday?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again. 
> 
> So we're nearing the end of this now... Oh well. It'll give me time to learn my French coursework. 
> 
> I hope that this chapter isn't too angsty for you... Enjoy! :)

_ **On one of their birthdays** _

 

Molly knew that Sherlock would have forgotten.

 

He had every year previously.

 

John had to remind Sherlock for the past four times Sherlock had been alive for him to actually remember that this was the day of her birth. 

 

Maybe this year would be different though?

 

Who was she kidding? Molly knew that Sherlock had forgotten. He'd even left the flat to go on some case, somewhere. Molly would have to spend her birthday alone, and _that_ is what hurt the most. Not the fact that Sherlock managed to forget, but the fact that he wouldn't be there even if he had forgotten. Surely Sherlock would remember considering they'd been married almost six months now? _Apparently not_ Molly cursed to herself before throwing her body into Sherlock's chair and picking up her book. She would usually get lost in her books for hours when Sherlock was on a case. This time, however, her mind wouldn't concentrate on the words that were before her. 

 

When Molly finally decided to stop attempting to read, she looked at the messages that she'd received on her mobile. Even though she knew it wouldn't happen, she secretly hoped that Sherlock's message would be along the lines of 'Happy birthday, Molly. You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you? Xx -SH' but that would _never_ be the case of one Sherlock Holmes. 

 

_'Happy Birthday, Molly! It's great to see my little Pathologist friend growing up for once. Mary xx'_

 

Granted, Molly laughed at _that_ message. Mary always knew what not to say and it made Molly feel happier about herself. 

 

**'Happy Birthday, Molly. I shall have your present sent round by Anthea. Good luck to you, sister. X -MH'**

 

Molly hadn't even noticed that Mycroft started referring to her as his sister until a few weeks ago. Sherlock pointed out that she wasn't in fact Mycroft's sister, so he couldn't call her that! Mycroft ignored that of course and went on with it any way. It's fine, Molly didn't mind. 

 

'Happy birthday, Molls. It's great to see that you and Sherlock might actually spend a birthday together where you both know. Good luck to you in this next year. I hope it's better than the last; but only in some respects of course... ;) JW'

 

'Ah... I apologise for my last message. I'm sure you've realised now that Sherlock didn't know that today was your birthday. That's why he's here with me. Solving a case... I'm sorry, Molls. I'll punch him for you! JW'

 

 _Good old John_ Molly thought to herself before laughing slightly. If John was going to punch Sherlock over forgetting her birthday, then she would need this as evidence for the next time it could possibly happen. She quickly replied to John asking for evidence and received a reply almost instantly. 

 

'Oh, believe me. I wouldn't want you to miss the immediate affect of my fist on Sherlock's face! JW'

 

Molly smiled to herself before reading the next message down. 

 

**'Hi! Happy birthday, Molly! Sorry, it's Greg. On Mycroft's phone... I hope that Sherlock isn't being too much of a five year old for you today as you don't deserve that any more! Lots of love!'**

 

Greg Lestrade. Molly had always secretly known that when Mycroft and Greg met it would be like fireworks sparking. What she didn't realise, however, is how fast it would be going between them. Using Mycroft's phone, eh? Well then... That was _not_ an image Molly wanted to see in her mind. When her eyes caught onto the sender of the last message, Molly felt her heart sink... Slowly. 

 

_**'Good morning to you, Molly. I have just been informed by my brother, Lestrade, John and his killer wife Mary, that today is in fact your birthday. Happy birthday! Sorry I forgot. Won't happen again! Xx -SH'** _

 

Sherlock _actually_ had the _cheek_ to send a message like that to his wife on her birthday?! Molly read the message over and over trying to picture _exactly_ how Sherlock would have sounded when he read the message out loud as he typed. A hand twisted out of the phone and into Molly's chest, ripping out her heart and shattering it in front of her eyes. Tears and blood both fell from the heart as it shattered just like glass and caused Molly to fall to the floor. She lay in her own tears, crying until she heard her phone buzz. Maybe it was Sherlock telling her that all of this was just a game... It wasn't. 

 

'Hey, Molls. I don't know what to say. Maybe you could come out for a drink with Mary and I tonight so that we can spend some time with you. I mean, we haven't seen each other properly in two weeks. What do you say, Molls? JW'

 

Molly let out a deep breath before replying, rather angrily with her thumbs, to John:

 

**' _I would love to, John. Thank Mary as well since I know it was her idea! ;) Shall we meet at our usual place about 7? Molly x'_**

 

'See you there, Mrs Holmes. JW'

 

At least two of her friends cared about her enough to actually want to spend some time with her on her birthday. Although, she did see Greg and Mycroft a lot because she made sure that Sherlock invited them round once or twice a week in order for the brothers to improve their relationship and tolerance with each other. When Molly came back to herself, there was a small knock on the door and a call of Molly's name. Mrs Hudson.

 

“Good morning, dear! Happy birthday!” Mrs Hudson sang as she brought a cake through and into the kitchen. “How is your day going so far, love?” 

 

“It's okay. Everyone has sent me messages and cards. John and Mary just invited me for a drink later, so that should be good.” Molly nodded slightly whilst she gave Mrs Hudson her best fake smile. The landlady, however, saw right through Molly's act and pulled her into a hug. 

 

“What has your husband done now?” 

 

“Forgotten all about me and run off to do some case with John. Here's the message he sent me, Mrs Hudson.” Molly replied, leaving the lady's arms and showing her the message that Sherlock had sent her. 

 

“Oh. That is _not_ right. I shall be having words with that man. He always knows how to spoil everything, doesn't he.” Mrs Hudson started to ramble and Molly didn't _really_ want to hear about all of the bad things that Sherlock had done recently. 

 

“Thank you for the cake, Mrs Hudson. And thank you for coming to see me. At least you have...” 

 

“That's quite alright, dear. Oh look. I think you have a new message. It's from Sherlock. I'll leave you to it.” Mrs Hudson said before rushing downstairs and back into the safety of her own flat. She would continue to bake and make sure that everything was _perfect_ for tonight. 

 

_**'I will be home late tonight. Don't wait up. I apologise again for not remembering. It won't happen again, Molly. I promise. I love you. Xx -SH'** _

 

Molly didn't believe him. She knew that he would forget again and again until she forced Sherlock to write out her date of birth one thousand times on his arms... Molly sighed before replying with all of the false hope that she had left inside her. 

 

_ **'I love you too. Molly'** _

 

That man deserved no kisses in Molly's mind. He would just have to suffer without them for the time being. No, Molly would not think about Sherlock for the rest of the day. She was going to go out with John and Mary and enjoy herself, for once. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

Molly arrived at exactly seven pm and immediately realised that there were more people in the pub than the two people Molly was actually going to see tonight. When she stepped through the door she was met with a chorus of 'Happy birthday' by people all over the pub. John and Mary were standing at the bar and smiling in such a way that they were showing how proud of themselves they actually were. _They_ organised this for Molly. 

 

“Hey, Molls. We thought that since Sherlock is such a lazy ass, that _we_ would throw you a surprise get together for your birthday.” John almost sang to the woman. When he pulled her in for a hug he whispered, “Happy birthday, Molls.” before letting her go into the arms of Mary. 

 

“Happy birthday!” 

 

“Thanks, Mary. It hasn't been the best birthday ever, but I guess that it has been tolerable!” Molly moaned into her friend's hair, surprised when Mary pulled back and raised her eyebrows at her. “What?” Molly was _definitely_ confused now. 

 

“Seriously, Molly. The more time you spend with that husband of yours, the more you start to sound alike. He's turning into you and you're turning into him. I want the old Molly back!” Mary whined with her puppy dog eyes on show to her friend. 

 

“Hey! I'm thirty five. I can sound however I want to sound!” Molly looked around the room in search for anyone she recognised. Every single person in the pub was someone that she knew. That was good! After saying hello to everyone and accepting gift after gift, Molly was finally approached by Greg and Mycroft. “Hello lover boys.” Molly chimed watching in amusement as Mycroft turned a lovely shade of pink. “Don't worry yourself, Mycroft. I'm not going to yell it out to everyone... Sherlock, on the other hand, might do just that!?” 

 

“Happy birthday, Mrs Holmes.” Mycroft replied sternly before looking around the room silently. “Where has John disappeared to?” He asked the woman before him. He had to admit to himself that he was _very_ good at acting when the time arose for him to. 

 

“He was just over there with Mary. Why?” 

 

“We believe that he has a surprise for you in the back room over there.” Greg pointed to the room in which John was just leaving from. Molly could see that both Greg and Mycroft were amused when she turned around to see John waving for her to go to him. She walked over, rather sluggishly, leaving Mycroft and Greg to smirk behind her head. 

 

“Hey, John. What's up?” Molly asked in her forced cheerful tone once she arrived to John's side. The ex-army man just stared and smiled at her before pushing her in the room with quite a shove. It was pitch black in the room, so Molly couldn't see anything. She scrambled around the room trying to find the lights. When she did eventually find the switch, he eyes clouded until she could see properly. In front of her, Molly found Sherlock Holmes sitting on a sofa and cradling something wrapped in a blanket. The man was smiling up at her fondly with a glimmer in his eyes that Molly had never seen before. 

 

“Sherlock, _where_ have you-”

 

“Mrs Holmes. Say hello to our baby girl.” Sherlock smiled up at her before revealing a tiny baby that was held securely in his arms. Molly's breath hitched slightly as she stared in awe. 

 

“H-how? Is she adopted?” Sherlock shook his head before standing and walking towards his wife and handing her the little girl into her arms. “Then what?” 

 

“The night I proposed, I had Mycroft take you, sedated of course, to a laboratory where they extracted and fixed your eggs. I don't know how they fixed them exactly, but Mycroft has been working on it for some time now. I donated some of my sperm and they fertilised them together. I believe that a surrogate carried her until last night when our daughter was born.” Molly looked up with tears in her eyes, noticing how Sherlock's were filled as well. “This is actually _our_ child, Molly. _Our_ baby girl.” Molly pulled Sherlock by his coat down so that their lips fit together perfectly. When they pulled away, they found a pair of deep blue eyes staring at them both intently. 

 

“She's definitely your daughter. She's already trying to deduce us on the spot.” Molly joked, but Sherlock agreed in his mind. Molly stroked the baby's cheek lightly before her eyes widened and she almost shouted, “I _knew_ that you'd done something to me, Sherlock. I had a mark on my skin from where the needle had gone in and I felt _atrocious_ the whole of the next day! You said that I was coming down with something!” 

 

“I had to tell you something, love. I couldn't just say, 'Oh, by the way, Molly, we're having a child together that you don't know about. So, I sent Mycroft to steal your eggs from you in order to surprise you' could-” Molly kissed Sherlock once more before looking down at the girl in her arms. 

 

“We should name her. What do you want to call her?” 

 

“Well, it has to keep with the family tradition of _ridiculous_ names, so we'll have to have a look online. I'm definitely _not_ naming her after my father or my brother. Nor myself for that matter.” Molly's eyes widened in disbelief as she chuckled slightly. “What?” 

 

“Nothing. I just never thought that I would have to look up names with Sherlock Holmes again.” Molly's eyes roamed the room before she added as an after thought, “Would about baby stuff? We don't have a cot, nappies, food-”

 

“Mycroft.” 

 

“You _do_ want to use Mycroft's name, after all?” 

 

Sherlock shook his head, giving Molly the 'don't be stupid' look. “No, Mycroft is a boy's name, Molly. Do keep up! Mycroft has sorted all of that out. Didn't he text you saying that he would send Anthea around with your presents?” Sherlock questioned, a smirk playing on his lips. Molly nodded before kissing Sherlock softly. “I planned all of this out, you know. I didn't forget it was your birthday. I just thought it would be a better surprise if you thought that was true.” 

 

“Thank you, Sherlock. For everything.”

 

“Let's go home. We need to choose a name and get this little one settled into bed. I have a feeling she isn't going to want to sleep for very long.” Moll chuckled slightly. “I apologise in advance if our daughter does in fact have that trait.” 

 

“it's fine, Sherlock. Really.” Molly took Sherlock's hand in hers and led them out of the room. Their were choruses of cheers and congratulations as the couple appeared in the pub with their baby in arms. John, Mary, Mycroft and Greg were all smiling triumphantly once more. John gave a quick wink to Sherlock before they both left the pub in each others' embrace. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“How about... Oldwyn?”

 

“You want our daughter to have 'old' in her name? Seriously, Molly. I thought that my mother's choice in names was bad, but if you think that one is suitable I might have to re-consider.” Sherlock snapped back and read down the screen once more. “This one?” He pointed one of his long fingers at the screen to a name.

 

“Claudette? Sherlock, it says that this is just a female version of Claude...” Molly replied unsure of why Sherlock had picked that name. 

 

“So?” 

 

“So. I do not want a name that is just made feminine so that this site can have more names!” 

 

“This one?”

 

“Xena? What, as in the planet Xena?” Sherlock nodded and smiled triumphantly to his wife as they stared at the screen. “John told me that you knew _nothing_ about space or the solar system, nor that you care about it because it's not important in your hard-drive.” Sherlock scowled at the screen. “Xena. _Xena._ I like it. Oh the joy will have when none of her teachers can pronounce her name.” Molly and Sherlock both laughed together before taking their daughter from her cot and holding her in their arms. 

 

“Goodnight, Xena.” Sherlock whispered against the girl's forehead, placing a small kiss there and winding his arm tighter around Molly's waist.   


“Goodnight, my love.” Molly cooed, she too placed a kiss onto their daughter's head, before placing her back into the cot and leaving the room to allow her to sleep in peace. “Thank you, Sherlock. For everything. The lies. The organisation. For Xena. I don't think I could wish for a better birthday in my life. You've got a lot of work to do next year, hubby.” Molly winked before moving onto the sofa and curling herself into a ball. 

 

“You and I are going to spend the whole day together tomorrow, with our daughter, in order for me to make it up to you. I haven't spent much time with you today, like I should have done, considering I'm your husband after all.”

 

“Thank you.” Molly whispered before she pulled Sherlock down on the sofa for a round of passionate kisses. 

 

When John saw them the next day, he _had_ to ask about the bruises and marks up and down both of their necks. The reaction was too good to miss. “Can you two act like adults, just once.” John repeated Mycroft's words as best as he could remember from all of those years ago. Sherlock and Molly looked at each other before bursting into laughter. John had never seen them happier together. Daughter in arms and acting as though they didn't have another care in the World. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. What did you think? The name isn't that bad, is it? I hope not. 
> 
> Any way. 
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Doing something ridiculous! See you then! :)


	28. Doing something ridiculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Sherlock take Xena to a crime scene and then pursue a criminal through the streets of London. Sherlock has a surprise in store however, but what is it for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey... I'm sorry this chapter is late. My mum gave me a lecture on how my attitude towards school is shit... I don't think it's that bad! 
> 
> Any way, I hope that you enjoy the chapter!

_ **Doing something ridiculous** _

 

After a few months for caring for Xena, and Sherlock _actually_ helping in the raising of his daughter, Molly and Sherlock decided that it would be a 'good' idea to take Xena to a crime scene to chase down a criminal. Well, Sherlock thought that it was a good idea. Molly, on the other hand, was _definitely_ against it!

 

“Sherlock, we _can't_ take an eight month old baby to a crime scene in order to chase down a criminal!” Molly almost shouted at the man as she rocked her daughter in her arms. “You've been doing so well, and now you want to do _this_.” 

 

“There's no need to shout, Molly. You are holding a baby in your arms, after all.” Came Sherlock's tactical reply. Mentally, Sherlock congratulated himself for outsmarting his wife after all of this time. 

 

“No.”

 

“No, what?”

 

“I said no, Sherlock, and that means _no_.” 

 

“But, _Molly_...” Sherlock wined in response as his wife placed a bottle to Xena's mouth. Molly shook her head and looked down to her daughter sucking enthusiastically on the bottle in her arms. Molly never even thought this situation possible, yet here she was; her daughter in her arms and happier than ever. Despite the sulking manchild opposite her. “I'll carry her all day.” Sherlock attempted to bargain. Molly's eyebrows raised in question, causing Sherlock to smirk. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Sherlock. You can't just bring your _daughter_ to a crime scene! It's not safe for her!” Lestrade snapped at the man as he saw the couple walking hand in hand, Xena strapped to Sherlock's chest. “As for you, Molly, I thought that you would be a little more responsible in these circumstances!” Molly blushed slightly when Lestrade pointed at her. 

 

“Oh, Lestrade. I had something that Molly could _not_ resist. I have dirt on her.” Sherlock told the Detective Inspector. Lestrade cocked his head and stared at the woman before him. When Molly mumbled something under breath, Lestrade chuckled slightly before asking, “What was that?” 

 

“I detained all of Molly's sexual encounters with me for the next six months if she did not comply.” Sherlock stated simply, a hint of a smirk in his voice. “Of course Molly thought that this would not be as good as letting our daughter go to a crime scene so, here we are.” Now everyone could see the smirk on Sherlock's lips; the one they'd seen so many times before, only those times were when Sherlock was impressed by a mysterious murder. They were _all_ glad that this was not one of those times. 

 

“Alright, Sherlock. I'm pretty sure that Molly has been through this _several_ times with you. Please, _never_ tell any of us about your sex life!” Lestrade moaned back at the Detective before turning into the house. “Here's what you need to know...”

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Sherlock, we can't just go running off!” Molly shouted after her husband as he jogged through the streets. Xena had her head in Sherlock's hand so that it was protected as Sherlock ran. Molly wasn't far behind but was _far_ more cautious in her moves. 

 

“Come on, Molly. We're losing him!” Sherlock growled back as he turned a sharp corner and into the darkness. He sprinted up the stairs an onto the roof of the building to find Lestrade and the police waiting for them. While Sherlock attempted to retrieve his breath, Molly finally made her way to the top of the building and stare, eyes wide and breathing heavily. Lestrade was now holding Xena tightly in his arms and staring at the woman as her eyes wandered over the scene before him. “What do you think?” Sherlock asked Molly, pulling her into him with an arm around her waist. 

 

“W-what is this?” Molly asked, still out of breath, as her eyes lighted up and stared at the giant zip wire from the building down to a restaurant. 

 

“Do you _really_ think that I would have forgotten our anniversary, Molly?” Sherlock whispered into Molly's ear and placed a kiss into her hair. “Come on.” Grabbing Molly by the hand, Sherlock pulled them both towards the man that stood at the beginning of the wire. 

 

“Good afternoon, sir. Madam.” The man nodded at each of them before handing them both a harness. “You might want to take your coat off, sir. I'm sure that Lestrade would be happy to take your baby and your coat down to the restaurant.” Molly's jaw dropped open at the man's speech. “Madam, would you like to go at the same time, or separately?”

 

“The same time please!” Molly almost screamed at the man before taking Sherlock's hand and walking towards the man. 

 

When both Molly and Sherlock were safely harnessed to the wire, Sherlock placed a kiss to Molly's hair and nodded. The man let the pair go and they were suddenly zipping towards the restaurant. Both had an ever growing smile on their lips as they raced towards the bottom. As their feet landed, Molly let out a laugh at how _ridiculous_ that was. 

 

“S-Sherlock. That. Was. _Ridiculous_!” Molly told the Detective as they were let into the restaurant. “I can't believe that you remembered, though. Thank you.” Molly kissed her husband soundly as Sherlock attempted to smile. Molly stopped that by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his body flush against her. They were interrupted by the sound of the waiter coughing, making them break apart and blush slightly. 

 

“Table for Mr Holmes?” The man asked before Sherlock nodded and allowed themselves to be led to a table. 

 

Molly continued to smile the whole night before whispering, “Thank you, Sherlock. This was something completely _ridiculous_ and I really love you for it!” She moved across the table to kiss Sherlock once more before she pulled back and sipped her wine. 

 

“You know, Molly. I managed to convince John to look after Xena until tomorrow morning.” Sherlock's lips turned into a seductive smirk before he added, “Would you like to-” Molly smiled in response before pulling Sherlock from the restaurant. Let's just say that if Xena knew what her parents were doing, she'd be glad that she was a baby, couldn't understand and was not around to see or _hear_ it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I don't know when the next chapter will be, but I'll try and get it up soon. 
> 
> The next chapter is:
> 
> Doing something sweet.


	29. Doing something sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xena is five years old now. What have Sherlock and Molly got in mind for her fifth birthday?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait. I have been trying to do this but my mum has been keeping an eye on me. Also I've had French to learn and tests to study for... Grr. 
> 
> I've also been freaking out about the Sherlock trailer and now the release dates here in Britain. Two years and it's over twelve days...!? Damn you BBC! The announcement was awesome though! I congratulate you on that part! 
> 
> Any way, on with the chapter.

_ **Doing something sweet** _

 

After five years that seemed to fly by, for both Sherlock and Molly, Xena was finally five years old. Her hair was down to her waist, long black curls that twirled together just like her father's. To be honest, she looked more and more like Sherlock every day. Their eyes were the same colour, except with a ring of Molly's colour around the pupil, their noses were the same and their hair was the same. On the other hand, she had Molly's mouth and ears and her body shape, though she was very skinny just like her father. 

 

Xena started school in September; her father fussing more than Molly in the end because he was worried about his past and how Xena would be treated. He knew that she was too much like him to not be teased at the very least. Sherlock was right to worry in the end. Xena came out of school clutching her bag and holding her doll under her arm. When Sherlock spotted her and the red eyes he knew immediately what had happened to her. When he picked her tiny frame up and held her close to his chest, allowing her to cry into his shoulder, he pat her back softly in order to comfort her. Whispering softly into her ear, “There, there. Let's go home.” before taking her bag from the floor and holding it tightly in his hand. 

 

When they arrived back at 221B, Molly was cheerful and making her daughter some fairy cakes. Xena may have been like Sherlock in her intelligence and looks, but when it came to interests she was more like her mother. Then when she saw her daughter asleep in Sherlock's arms and her husband looking so sad that he was ashamed of himself she knew exactly what had happened. Molly took their daughter from Sherlock's arms and sat down on the sofa and put Xena's head in her lap and stoked her hair softly. After Sherlock had pulled off his coat and scarf, he joined his family on the sofa and placed a kiss to Molly's temple. 

 

“I'm sorry, Molly.” Sherlock whispered into the silence as they watched their daughter sleep. “This is all my fault. If I was not like I am then our daughter would be perfectly normal and wouldn't have already been bullied on her first day.” 

 

“Please, don't say things like that Sherlock. If you were not Sherlock Holmes then I would not love you. I don't think that I would appreciate our daughter as much as I do now if it weren't for you, Sherlock.” Molly smiled up at her husband and placed a kiss to his lips. When the kissing didn't stop, they heard a small moan of disgust from below them. Xena. 

 

“Pleasse sstop doing that!” Xena had inherited her lisp from Sherlock, even though he did his best to hide his. When she started to giggle, Sherlock and Molly relaxed slightly into each other. 

 

“Hey there, sweetheart. How was your day?” Molly asked as softly as she could. Xena lost her smile and started to twist her hands together. “What happened, darling? Come on, you tell us.” 

 

“Sssamantha broke my dolly, mama.” Xena looked around for her doll for a moment before remembering the head clutched in her little hand. “Look.” Molly took the head from her daughter's hand and held it out to Sherlock. 

 

“Anything else you want to talk about, Xena?” Sherlock pried placing his hand onto his daughter's cheek and stroking slightly. 

 

“People called me namess, dad. Horrible namess.”

 

“Like what?” 

 

“Freak, dad.” Xena looked down to her hands as her eyes filled with tears. She'd never been one for crying, only doing so when her parents couldn't see. Sherlock had done this time and time again in his childhood. “They told me that I didn't belong here with them. I don't, do I?” Xena looked up to her parents and saw the tears on Molly's cheeks. Using her tiny hand, Xena reached up and wiped her mother's tears away. 

 

“Thank you, Xena. Of course you belong with them, darling.”

 

“They ssaid that I don't because I have a sstrange name. Iss it because I can read, and they can't?” 

 

“You know what, Xena?” Sherlock asked as he took hold of his daughter's hand and led her into the kitchen. He gave a quick nod to Molly and she left the flat. 

 

“What, dad?” The five-year-old replied looking up to her father and smiling slightly. 

 

“No matter what all of the other children think at school, you will always be better than them at everything. Okay?” Xena nodded slightly so Sherlock continued, “You and I are the same, I'm just sorry that it included the names. You started to talk before you were nine months old, just like I did. You can read fluently in both English and French. You can even speak fluent French. You are five-years-old, Xena, and they have no right to judge you because you can do maths or say when they have stolen someone else's teddy bear. All you have believe is that your mother and I will _always_ be proud of you because you are the best thing that has ever happened to us, and you have surprised us in _so many_ ways that we can't even remember them all.” Using his finger, Sherlock lifted Xena's face to look into her eyes. “Just make sure that you don't show off in front of the rest of the children, okay?” 

 

“Okay, daddy.” Xena hadn't called Sherlock 'daddy' in over a year and it hurt Sherlock slightly. He didn't want her to grow up too quickly so that he wouldn't get to spend any time with her. 

 

“Promise me.” 

 

“I promise, daddy.” Sherlock's eyes widened at his daughter's reply. 

 

“What did you say?” He asked quickly, holding his daughter's shoulders slightly.

 

“I said that I promise.” Xena realised suddenly that she managed to talk without her lisp. She giggled slightly and threw her arms around Sherlock's neck. “I did it, Daddy! I did it!” She exclaimed excitedly giggling into her father's shoulder.

 

“Well done, Xena. I'm so proud of you.” 

 

From that day forward at school, Xena stood up for herself and used her deductions for good things. She made a best friend named Amelia, though she liked to be called Amy, before the Christmas holidays and they spent lots of time together. Amy was a _very_ adventurous child who came from Scotland, but now lived in London with her parents. They stood up for each other, much like John and Sherlock did for each other over their time as best friends, and made sure that nobody would push Xena too far. The name calling did continue throughout the year, but Amy and Xena pushed it aside and talked about their futures. They were very grown up for five-year-olds. 

 

On Xena's birthday, the only people Molly and Sherlock allowed her to invite, not that she even _wanted_ to invite anyone else anyway, was Amy and their new friend Rory. Rory was smaller then the two girls, but they were all kind to each other and didn't judge them before they met. Sherlock and Molly had planned a big surprise for the three of them because they saw the two other children a lot more than they thought they would. 

 

“Xena! Can you, Amy and Rory come here for a minute please?” Molly called up the stairs before retreating to the living room with Sherlock. They remained as quiet as they could until they couldn't hear the children any more. 

 

When the trio came running down the stairs, they spotted a pirate hat on the banister. Xena picked it up and found a not inside and read it out loud. Meanwhile, Amy stole the hat and put it onto her head pretending that she was a pirate. “Amy, stop messing around and come look at this!” Xena shouted at her friend before handing her the note and running down the next set of stairs. Rory was close behind her. The not read ' _Follow the arrows, me hearty, until you find your birthday treasure'._ Xena knew that it was from her dad, but she wanted to play along any way. The trio followed the arrows until they made it outside and into Mrs Hudson's small garden area. It wasn't much, but it was enough for what was waiting for the children. Each stared in awe at what was before them. 

 

When the silence came, Molly and Sherlock laughed together and followed the children down the stairs and through Mrs Hudson's flat. What they found was three children all staring at a box in the centre of the concrete. 

 

“Well, Xena. What do you think of your new bees?” Sherlock asked, holding his wife's hand and moving towards the children. 

 

“T-They're-”

 

“I want you to help me look after them. They're your birthday present this year.” Sherlock finished before picking up a jar of honey and taking it towards Xena. “Here. They'll make us honey and I'm sure that you'll always beg us for more.” 

 

“Thank you, dad!” Xena squealed before pulling her father down and hugging him tightly. “I love you!” She whispered into his ear before rejoining her friends as they stared at the bees that flew around the hive and onto the flowers. 

 

“Love you, too.” Sherlock whispered back before clapping his hands together and asking, “So. Who wants some toast and honey?” All three of the children jumped up and shouted. “Wow. I guess it'll just be myself and Molly then.” He joked before going back into the flat and ignoring the children's pleas. 

 

“But _dad_...” Xena whined over and over again as they went up the stairs. “Please can we have some of the honey?” 

 

“Of course you can, since you've asked so nicely, Xena.” 

 

For the rest of Xena's birthday, the Holmes', Amy and Rory ate the honey and watched films together just like a family. Sometimes it was hard for Molly to remember that all three children were not hers in fact and that they were someone else's. She didn't mind any more though; she had Xena and that was all that mattered to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> The last chapter is: 
> 
> Doing something hot... God!?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Thoughts??


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